Sleeping with the Enemy
by Armadilloi
Summary: The long lost doc is found as are Charles, Charlie and Chuck.  I wrote this part in Ireland and they have incredible drugs...lol    I promised to finish all of them and I will. APR
1. Waking up with the Enemy

Sleeping with the Enemy

APR  
Grand Isle, LA  
May 2010

* * *

Day 0

He's been feeling 'off' since he'd been forced to absorb the Fulcrum download not once, but twice when they ran the 'Burbs op. The second time he'd been more concerned with making sure Sarah was protected from the visual death sentence and that Casey was in the clear and hadn't paid much attention to the images. One nice thing about Fulcrum's download was the absence of a headache that usually hurt so bad that he passed out.

**_His cell rang and he squirmed to fish it out of his suit pants. Unknown Caller. _**

"This is…"

"Hello, Chuck. Execute Prometheus. I say again, '_Execute Prometheus._' I'll see you soon, baby."

His eyes fluttered and then rolled up into the back of his head and he threw up and lost control of the Prius as subliminal images poured through his mind.

* * *

12 Hours Later

Diane Beckman was in a rage. Almost 2 years of planning and operations have been rendered moot by the assassination of one of the nation's most valuable intelligence assets. Major Casey had wrapped up the investigation quickly and professionally. There had been two explosive devices employed, one in the man's cell phone and another, significantly larger and more deadly, electronically triggered by the smaller device in the cell phone.

The second explosive device had been in the battery of the Prius driven by the host. It consisted of several NSA-issued 'disintegrators' used whenever it was essential that not even the minutest scrap of organic material could be found to make identification of the victim possible. There would be no remains, of course, due to the intense heat and energy created and then released in such a confined space. They were 'daisy-chained' together to create an immolating fireball that reduced even the vehicle chassis to slag.

Toyota would have public relations disaster on their hands but that was their problem. She had problems of her own.

Someone wanted the all traces of the host gone. Why?

* * *

Day 5  
Residential Hotel  
Burbank, CA

She'd cried herself to sleep. They'd argued. All he'd ask for was some hint that what he felt for her was reciprocated. He told her that he loved her and asked her if she felt anything for him. She'd steeled herself and quashed the overwhelming desire to scream 'YES!' at the top of her lungs and crush him in an embrace.

But she didn't. She couldn't. There had already been questions about her relationship with the asset. She knew she was under close scrutiny, probably even bugged in her hotel room (although that was supposed to be against the rules but he was the host and rules were bent and broken because of him).

The mission in the damned suburbs had rubbed his wound raw and he was becoming persistent.

"No, Chuck. I'm sorry. It's all a cover. I'm a professional and there's no place in my life or career for compromise. I have a mission to accomplish. Being close to you is…nice and I really like you as a friend, but you're the job, the intersect, and I have to protect you without allowing the kind of feelings you have to cloud my judgment."

"A friend. OK. Well, friend, I guess it's OK to date other women then. After all, you have Bryce here occasionally and don't deny it, please, don't. He's made a point of 'dropping by' and letting me know he's been 'in town' and was staying with you."

"Chuck, you can't. You'll endanger the cover. Beckman won't like it and I don't know if I'll be able to keep you out of 'protective custody' if you do something so stupid. There are rules, Chuck…" Damn Bryce Larkin to hell! He just couldn't resist taunting his friend. They'd been over for a while and he still refused to take 'no' for an answer.

"It's your cover, Agent Walker. I don't need a cover. You and Casey need it to explain your presence in my life, don't you? Well, 'friend', no point in staying here kicking a dead horse. I get it, Agent Walker. I'll accept your presence in my public life but stay the hell out of my private one."

He'd stormed out of her hotel room and out of her life. Casey called her with the code black and things went to hell for her from that point on.

And now she had to attend a mass and a wake. She had to. Orders. She took a tranquilizer the CIA issued for just such situations and let it numb the pain until she was totally immune to anything emotional.

There was no funeral service because there was no body. There was a brief mass and then a gathering of family and friends at the Bartowski apartment. She'd managed to stave off a meltdown until Ellie had hugged her and whispered that she would always be a member of the family because she'd loved her brother so deeply and had made him so happy.

That had been the final straw. She'd run from the apartment and she hadn't stopped until she'd reached her car and driven back to her hotel room. Thanks to the Agency, she wouldn't have to stay in Burbank another day. She could run somewhere else, become someone else, and forget all about the tall man she'd fallen hopelessly in love with but had she'd denied herself.

* * *

Day 23

John Casey had decided to retire from the NSA after Chuck's death. He had his 20+ years and he took the reduced pension and just stayed where he was before any of this happened. He actually liked working at the Buy More although he'd never admit it. And he was glad he'd made that decision.

Ellie and Devon had split up after Chuck's death and Devon finished his residency and went off to do good works in Africa. At least that was the official story. That was the story Ellie believed. Casey figured it was because Eleanor Bartowski had slipped into a grief cycle and he just couldn't handle it. He always thought Devon was selfish, shallow and weak and leaving a woman he supposedly loved when she'd just experienced the loss of her brother confirmed this.

Casey and Ellie had become better friends and Casey had spent many evenings talking with her about her brother. One night after dinner and a little too much wine, she was going on about how he'd lost his spark, his drive and ambition and how she had been so disappointed in him and that he probably wouldn't have amounted to much without some 'outside intervention'.

That bothered Casey. He broke protocol after swearing her to secrecy. She laughed at his demand for her 'word of honor' but she saw something different about him. Something scary and so she'd given her word. She was a Bartowski and never broke her word.

He told her everything. She heard the part of the story including his instructions to kill her brother if and when it became necessary. He was vague about the intersect but specific about Chuck's use of it and the missions they'd run. He was about halfway through when she'd told him to leave and never come back.

The next evening a teary-eyed and apologetic Ellie asked him to come back and finish his story. She was sorry and she had something to show him. They walked back to the apartment together. She'd shocked Casey by holding his hand and not letting go despite his obvious discomfort. "I won't bite you, Major."

"I was cleaning out his room, deciding what to keep, what to give Morgan or the guys from the Buy More and what to throw out. I took down his Tron poster and found this on the backside."

Casey grunted and then started to laugh. It was an entire flow chart of the past 22 months with identities, suppositions and organizational notes. The boy had been a genius. It would have been only a matter of time before he would have figured it all out. And it had been right there under Casey's nose (and camera) the entire time.

"John, come finish your story." She led him by the hand back to her bedroom.

* * *

Day 55  
Winter, Nevada

He woke up with a headache and a foul taste in his mouth. He knew that taste. Booze and cigarettes. A nasty combination. He lay there in the dark looking up at the ceiling.

Someone stirred beside him and for a minute he wondered if he'd been bar hopping and gotten lucky. He glanced at his wrist to check the time and saw a Rolex instead of his NSA-issued tracer watch.

"Honey, go back to sleep. I put Advil and a water glass on the nightstand for you. Take them and try to get some sleep. We have a huge day ahead of us."

He knew that voice. It couldn't be.

"Jill?"

"Chuuuuck, it's 3:30! Have a heart, honey. Go back to sleep. You drank too much and you and Casey stayed up half the night talking about Portland. Honestly, you both need to let it go. It wasn't anyone's fault. I know he's our boss but I'm glad he's gone back to DC. Maybe you'll knock off trying to drink Nevada dry and pay attention to me for a change."

"Sorry. Go back to sleep. I think a warm shower will loosen me up enough to sleep. Sorry, Jill." He'd play along until he could get a better handle on the situation. Casey was their _boss_? _Their_?

He walked into the bathroom and turned on the light. He caught his reflection in the mirror and staggered a bit in the bright light. His hair was cut differently to hide a wicked scar along the side of his temple that ended just above the ear. He was sporting a closely-trimmed beard that had a streak of gray near his chin. It was neatly trimmed and he vaguely remembered someone saying that it would help with time dilation.

He removed the Rolex and checked out the backside. There was an inscription: _**'Forever ~Jill ~2005'.**_ He was wearing a wedding band, tasteful and functional. He took the two Advil but was fully awake. He brushed his teeth to get rid of the taste.

He walked down the hall from their bedroom into the living room. There were engineering (his) and biology and genetics texts (hers) on the bookcase shelves as well as pictures…

There was a picture of a beardless Chuck and Jill, with Devon and Ellie and a smiling John Casey, all dressed in formal wear except Casey who in uniform. He could make out the silver eagles of a full Colonel on his epaulets and an engagement and wedding ring on Jill's hand.

The next picture was of Chuck, Sarah, Casey and Bryce taken in the apartment in Burbank. Sarah was sitting on Bryce's lap with her arm around his neck. They were all smiling. He could see Ellie and Devon in the kitchen in the background.

The third photograph was in an ornate silver frame. It was a wedding photograph of Chuck and Jill, bride and groom, obviously in love.

He sat down on the couch and held the wedding portrait, for that's what it was, staring at it, unable to remember anything at all after…after when he wasn't sure.

Toned arms snaked around him from behind and a sleep-husky voice spoke softly in his ear. "We've gotten older, honey, that's all. The love is still there, believe me. It's so unfair. I'm getting wrinkles and you're just getting better looking, distinguished even."

"Jill, was I – was I hurt or something? I – I don't remember these. Don't get angry, Jill, it's just that…"

"Stop. The memories are still there, I know they are. It's only been a year, Chuck, and you were so close to dying. Quit pushing yourself. They'll come back in time. I spent 3 months beside your bed holding your hand, not knowing if you were coming back. Three months, Chuck."

"I don't remember any of that. I don't remember…"

"Well, I do. I remember fighting with Casey and Ellie about your damned living will. They wanted to pull the plug, Chuck, but I knew - I _knew_ you were in still in there and I was right. I was right to hold on! I knew you wouldn't break your promise. I knew you wouldn't leave me behind." She sounded sad and desperate. He could feel her tears on his face.

"I'm sorry. Please don't cry, Jill. Let's get you back to bed. You said we had a full day ahead of us."

She hopped over the back of the couch and then into his lap, putting her arms around his neck and kissing him lightly. "Actually, Chuck, I said we have a 'huge' day ahead of us. Our first mission together after all this time on the inactive list." Her eyes were bright with tears but she was smiling. "I'm so happy but I'm scared, too. I want you to remember your promise. Stay in the damned van for the next few missions until you're back on your game, Chuck. You promised me, Chuck."

"Jesus, you sound just like Sarah." It was the natural thing to say. At least it was the natural thing he would say.

"They're gone, Chuck. Nothing we do will bring them back. Sarah and Bryce are dead. You almost died and I – I lost our baby." She saw the look of shock on his face.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I lost her. I'm sorry. I've gone over Portland a hundred times but I can't see where you could have done anything else. I know you feel guilty about our baby girl but we can try again, Chuck. It just wasn't meant to be this time. We can try again, honey."

She curled up against him, wrapping her fists in his t-shirt and cried, huge sobs wracking her small frame and all Chuck could do was hang on to her and croon nonsense syllables into her hair. _We've lost a baby?_

If I haven't hooked you, no great loss. APR


	2. Making out with the Enemy

Married2

* * *

Day 70

"Morning." Casey rolled over and kissed his personal physician 'good morning'.

"You talk in your sleep, John. You talk a lot. I think it would help you sleep easier if you talked to a professional, off the books, of course." She knew Casey well enough to know he'd never 'officially' see a therapist but maybe she could arrange a coffee session and let him see it's not as bad as he thinks it is.

"Ellie, I couldn't talk about the stuff that might be bothering me, assuming anything was, because it's all classified. The NSA has shrinks and if I get in trouble or you can't sleep (he tickled her lightly), I'll contact one of them, I promise."

"I just hate seeing you wrestle with your demons when something might be done to put them to rest. You're very dear to me, John Casey, and your well being is important to me. Live with it. It's called the 'Nurturing Physician Syndrome'.

He sighed, knowing he was beaten before the battle even began. "I'll contact an old NSA buddy and get a recommendation, Ellie, I promise."

"Good. Now, that was a weak good morning kiss. We're going to practice until you get it perfect, starting right now…" The female giggling and male laughter died out as other sounds replaced them.

* * *

Winter, Nevada (Maybe)

Their apartment had 12 units in it but only 4 were occupied. Working and living in one of the most closely-guarded facilities in the world had its advantages and disadvantages.

'Going out for the evening' meant getting together with other 'special operations agents' at either their place or one of the other agents' apartments. They were not permitted to leave beautiful downtown Winter, Nevada. In fact, they were forbidden any interaction at all with any of the other facility personnel. They were the 'elite' and kept apart.

The town of 200 residents was a Combine 'retreat'. Chuck never saw a child or anyone under the age of 30. And it was HOT despite its name. Hot all year round according to the locals. Strange thing about Winter was that he didn't see that many old farts either.

"Jill, I'm going stir crazy. What did we do for entertainment before I lost my marbles?" They were sitting in the air conditioned 'club house' nursing some evening booze and talking with the other agents. Several were in the pool but the water temperature was more like bath water after exposure to the sun all day.

She got up from her seat on the couch and walked over and plopped herself down on his lap and nibbled at his ear and he lost his train of thought. She whispered that they spent most of their 'free time' either exercising or in the hot tub or in bed.

"Y'know, Chuck, that little problem you had back at Stanford disappeared and I have to tell you, honey, you make me a very happy woman as often as you can." She ran the tip of her tongue around his ear and giggled when he shuddered.

"Keep that up, Jill, and I'll take you right here. You know how that turns me on. It always did. Let's go back to the apartment and I'll make you happy again. It's my goal in life."

She ran out of the clubhouse leaving him wondering how he got so lucky. The doctors responsible for monitoring his head injury were very pleased with his physical progress and less bothered by his memory loss attributing most of it to 'trauma-induced amnesia'. To Chuck it was a 5-year hole in his life that he desperately wanted to fill with memories.

For the past months all Chuck had done was training, physical conditioning and weapons qualifications plus the almost daily intel briefing with Casey over the phone. He wore gadgets that transmitted telemetry readings on all his systems back to the medical unit to ensure he didn't 'stroke out' as a result of his injury. He'd lost a lot of his stamina and physical strength while languishing in a coma. Casey wanted him in optimum shape before taking him off the leash.

Jill was a frequent spectator at his training sessions and sparred with him after his regular physical defense training. He was making great progress and Jill was thrilled and lavished him with praise.

"Damn, Bruce Lee, you tagged me good with that one." He'd knocked her on her butt with a spin kick to the chest. He didn't hold back when sparring and he wasn't at all concerned with hurting her.

"C'mon, big boy, nap time. Then we have our run and then we're free until Monday."

* * *

Bartowski Quarters  
Restricted Units

"Y'know, Chuck, we have a 30-day leave coming up in 4 months. I thought we could maybe spend a week in Burbank and a week up in Seattle with my parents and then the rest of the time down in the Baja. We could go back to San Ignacio del Mar and 'recreate' our honeymoon. Please, Chuck? I really miss seeing Ellie and my folks are getting on up there and I don't know how much longer my dad's ticker is going to hold out."

"Sounds like a plan to me, sweetheart." She snuggled up closer to him and sighed. "Good. You can clear San Ignacio with Casey once we get firmer dates. Since it's a secure facility, we can't just drop in and get a bungalow on the beach."

"So you and Ellie, um, you two are, um…"

"Best Friends Forever? No, not after what I had to do as my Red Test. It took forever for her to let me back in. We don't really talk about that time, honey, and you can understand why she was so hurt. Thank God the General let us bring her into the loop or she would never have forgiven us."

"Red Test? Ellie knows about the intersect and the spy stuff?"

"C'mon, honey, please, I don't want to rehash the test. I almost lost you forever and I…it's hard, Chuck, please?"

"Jill, I have memory holes in my head. I know people here that I don't 'know'. I can't remember US! Help me out. It's driving me nuts, Jill. I have these flashes of memory, almost like visions complete with sound and feelings, and I don't remember any of them. It's like watching bits and pieces of different movies and none of them make sense!"

"Chuck, calm down, please! I'll get you a pill. You have to keep a handle on your blood pressure. You're still not out of the woods. We'll have to stop by Medical in the morning and have you checked out." _'Shit, he's having flashbacks! He'll need another conditioning session in the tank and then some hypnotherapy. I need to distract him for now.'_

"What's wrong with me, Jill. I can handle it. Why can't I remember things? Why don't I know our past?"

She sighed and propped herself up so she could look him in the eyes. It was for effect but also to gauge his reaction.

"Portland. We never should have taken on the mission. You had doubts but Sarah pushed for us to run the op. Even Bryce had his doubts but she just pushed and pushed and got her way as usual. Casey finally caved even after you two had that knock-down-drag-out when you told him to 'fuck off, it's too risky'. But whining Sarah pushed Bryce and the pair finally convinced Casey."

"This is hard for me, honey. So many things happened and none of them were good. I'll tell you, but you gotta promise, Chuck, not to interrupt me. I'll tell it my own way and in my own good time, agreed?"

He nodded his head but wished he'd kept his mouth shut. From the look on her face, this was going to be hard for her.

* * *

_We drove to Portland carrying our mission load-out in the van. No support in Portland and we didn't, OK, __you__ didn't trust the Seattle office to be mole-free. Sarah drove, of course, and you and I just sat in the back and talked. That's when I told you I was pregnant. It wasn't the flu, Chuck. I was almost 2 months gone. And you were so happy and I'd been afraid you would be mad since we hadn't really planned on a baby for a while._

_The target was a suspected computer node, ill-manned and supposedly almost empty at night. It was out in the middle of an industrial park and we did a quickie recon and then gained entry. That was the easy part._

Chuck noticed her breathing had quickened and she had sweat beads on her lip and forehead – a sure sign she was under stress. She'd been like that when he'd confronted her… he wasn't sure what he was thinking. Another brain fart memory.

_They let us get all the way in before they slammed the doors on us. Bryce went down first, a shotgun blast to the face. Sarah was hit in the legs and you rushed the squad of attackers, grabbing Sarah by the web gear and dragged her back to our position. That's when you got hit, honey. I thought you were dead! I freaked out and started spraying the area and I dragged you out by your webbing because you were too heavy to carry. _

_I couldn't go back for Sarah. I miscarried pulling you out. They – they killed her. The backup team came roaring up, took out the Fulcrum agents and got you stabilized but Larkin and Walker were dead and I was bleeding badly. I'm sorry about it all. I killed our baby girl, Chuck, I killed her! _

She cried and sobbed, on the verge of hysteria. He calmed her down as much as he could but finally dialed the Medical Section on the internal apartment phone and asked for a medic.

He felt devastated. He'd been the reason they'd lost the baby not Jill. It had been his fault. His and those two stubborn team mates who were killed. He should have listened to her. He should have listened to his wife. He promised himself then and there to always listen to her. She'd almost bled to death and she'd lost her baby – all because of him. The guilt machine was in full swing as he convinced himself he was responsible.

He held her the entire night even though he knew the sedative would keep her sleeping through a nuclear war. He just didn't want to abandon her. He wanted to hang on to her and never let go.

* * *

Jill woke up cuddled against his chest. He'd held her the entire night and she felt a surge of emotion for him she hadn't felt in a long time. She needed to be careful, to be professional and avoid any emotional entanglements that could ruin the mission.

"Chuck, I got to pee, baby. Please let me up. Chuuuck!" He groaned and let her go, shivering for a second when the breeze from the room air conditioner wafted across his chest where her warmth had been.

She slipped back into bed and pulled the blanket over her. He slid down beside her and found himself with his arms full of a warm and naked wife with definite objectives that did not include sleeping.

"Oh, Chuck, it's been so long since we've made love. Please, I need this, you big stud, and you need it, too. It's been two whole nights and I feel so damned horny."

"That long, huh? Well, time to end the drought." She giggled and then wiggled and he slipped into her warm and wet grasp and her muscles clamped down and he was totally lost.

"Jill, no condom. Wait…"

"You're right, Chuck. No condom. It's baby-making time. Every night and at least once during the day, maybe more. We're going to have our baby and be a real family. Then we're going to ask for desk jobs and let someone else save the world. Team Chuck will be benched indefinitely. No risks, baby, no risks for either of us. Oh, I love you so much…" Some time later they fall apart from one another, sweaty and sated.

She was out of breath, gasping and sweat-soaked. "Oh, my God, Chuck, if that didn't knock me up, I don't know what will. You were so…"

"Shhh. Calm down. Catch your breath. That was incredible but I don't want you to feel like you got some obligation to have a baby, Jill. We'll have one when we're supposed to. It'll happen. God, is it this way every time? I can't remember. You've fried my brain…" He laughed.

"Shower then we have to run you through medical. It's a new protocol for you. 'Any agent returning to duty after any downtime injury will be examined before and after an operational action for a period of 90 days.' That's an exact quote from the regs."

"That's dumb but then most of them are. Fine. Ladies first and then we'll head on over to the commissary and grab breakfast and then do the medical thing. Damn! I suppose that means they take blood, doesn't it?"

"Chuck Bartowski can face down hordes of screaming Fulcrum agents and the occasional terrorist but he's petrified of a little needle!" She ran to the shower before he could exact his tickle revenge. She knew him so well.

* * *

While Chuck went through 'medical', Jill checked in with a physician.

"I need thirty or so 'morning after' pills. I shouldn't need to take them all that often but the mark is pretty damned sexy and really great in the sack."

The doctor looked at her and grinned. "If there's anything left of him, Dr. Roberts, drop him off at my quarters. I'll take good care of him."

Jill smirked wondering if the woman knew just how little would be left of him when they were finished with him. He'd be mindless and sent back to his team as a warning. It was never their intention to kill him. It was always their intention to drain him of all his knowledge of operations and intel and then throw him away.

She felt a pang of guilt and pity. The entire project had been her idea from the beginning and she'd carefully manipulated people and events until Team Bartowski was tasked with infiltrating the cul-de-sac operation where Fulcrum recruited and tested new and defecting agents.

The work of months culminated in a simple download of subliminal suggestions and the implantation of 'Trojan Horses' in his subconscious under the verbal prompt of Prometheus. One phone call executed the micro-download and he was theirs. From that point on it was simple conditioning, memory alteration and eliminating or suppressing any memories of certain operations.

She waited in the hallway for Chuck to finish up with his physical. She knew he hated needles and would bitch the entire day about having to have blood drawn and receive 'inoculations' against various and sundry ailments. In fact, he was receiving very mild psychotropic drugs that would enhance his 'pliability' and acceptance to suggestions.

She'd be sleeping alone tonight. It was time for another twice-weekly therapy session he'd never know happened. Chuck would spend the night receiving another piece of his Fulcrum-provided history. She'd miss his enthusiasm but she was a Fulcrum operative and had no room for such thoughts. Still, she was amazed at how little foreplay she required to be wet and ready for him. There was just something about everything he did; every touch, caress or kiss went right to her soul and clit.

APR


	3. Fighting for the Enemy

Sleeping with the Enemy3

* * *

Day 113  
Airstrip  
Unknown location

The heavily armed team poured out of the blacked-out civilian C-123 and into vans parked at the end of the ramp. The target was a suspected Fulcrum intel node and the mission was to download and copy all the data on their mainframes and upload timed logic viruses that would spread throughout their system. Any computer that communicated with the host mainframe would be infected and all data copied and transmitted to NSA HQ computers for analysis.

Chuck and Jill were the last off the aircraft and sat in the back of the last windowless van.

"Chuck, are you sure the virus you wrote will perform? We didn't have time to test it before we got the change in orders. I don't want to risk you on a mission that will prove worthless."

"Jill, trust me. No one will find it. It embeds itself into the bios after propagating throughout the system using the administrator codes. Relax and let me do my thing. You just make sure nothing happens to us. Let me worry about the uploads. You just watch my back and your fine ass."

She swung herself over onto his lap, straddling him. "Chuck, you be careful. No heroics. No risks. Let the shooters go in first and clear the way. You're too precious…" She couldn't go on. She was afraid for him for the first time. Somehow she'd let her guard down and he'd crept in just like before and she was totally compromised. She was falling in love with him all over again.

She kissed him hard 'for luck' and then reseated herself, forcing her emotions back under control and cursing herself for being weak. Her mission was changing and she was changing with it. The original goal of sucking his mind dry of intel and breaking him had morphed into using a complex personality-altering program to use him as an active asset.

* * *

The van stopped and the door was flung open. They were in the underground parking garage of a 5-story office building that seemed vaguely familiar to Chuck but he just shook it off.

'_All parking garages look the same, Moron!' _He could hear the General's voice mocking him and he smiled.

Chuck and Jill followed the security team into the main elevator. The elevator went _down_ three levels and opened to reveal a lobby and security desk. The body of a rent-a-cop was lying over the consoles.

The team leader consulted a diagram and motioned them down a corridor that Chuck knew from the briefing led to the main computer center. There was a burst of weapons fire ahead and the team leader grunted and then folded in on himself, dead. The second man assumed the lead position and directed fire at the security station, overwhelming the guard on duty.

Chuck stepped over the body of the dead guard and took a device from his backpack and inserted leads into the electronic locking device that controlled the magnetic seals on the vault door. The door had closed and locked automatically when the team breached the lobby.

Thirty seconds. The program application began running complex formulae and algorithms and the combination began appearing, one digit at a time, in the display.

Sixty seconds. The program was almost finished. The programs guarding the combination had been changed recently and he'd had to make adjustments in his approach.

"Chuck, c'mon, baby. We're behind the curve. What's wrong?" She kept looking at her 'count down' timer and mentally urging the device on. Their teammates were busy on other levels planting explosives with very short timers.

Ninety seconds. "We're in! Let's go. Post security here and let's go, Jill. Damn, they must have upgraded their protocols. We should have been in and out by now."

Their security detail pulled on the massive door and Chuck rushed in, ignoring Jill's cry to 'Wait!" A woman Chuck recognized from someplace sat behind a console and sprayed a burst at him with an MP-3. She was panicky and her shots weren't very well aimed but two managed to hit his Kevlar vest and knock the wind out of him.

He heard Jill's 'Chuck!' She fired at the woman, killing her. He pulled himself up against the wall and saw his objective. He staggered over to the console and opened his pack and pulled out a flash drive and slapped it into the USB port and typed in the upload command. He dumped the operator's body out of the chair and sat down heavily, ignoring the blood that coated the arms and back.

Jill tried to spin him around to check him for wounds and he pushed her away, almost knocking her down. "Not now! Focus on the mission, Jill. There's no time to spare. OK! We're in and the virus is replicating throughout the operating system."

He pulled out the flash drive and replaced it with a USB cable that ran from a large box he set on the console. A few keystrokes and the data stored in the mainframe was being copied and stored in his 'black box' device as the final step before the virus corrupted the files.

"Jill, tell the team leader we'll need 7 minutes and then we'll have the data. Seven minutes and three more to get up to the parking garage. Ten minutes. They have to hold ten minutes!"

Jill smiled at the sight of a committed and focused Chuck. There was no hurry. The other teams were already waiting in the parking garage. The initial strike team had loaded a nerve gas into the air conditioning system incapacitating everyone else in the secure levels except for the computer level and the parking garage.

"No problem, baby. They'll hold. This is too damned important to let us fail now. Can't you hurry the program along? I can't believe the intel on the mag-locks was so wrong! It cost us valuable time." A little urgency went a long way.

"They're traitors, Jill, not stupid. Maybe if we could understand what our differences were we could eliminate or compromise on them. We're losing too many good people to Fulcrum. There has to be a reason they turn their backs on the agencies and our government. Has anyone asked them?"

"Now is definitely not the time for this discussion. Later, when we're alone."

She was standing behind him and ran the palm of her hand down his cheek and rested both hands on his shoulders, gently massaging them to calm him. She couldn't help it. She found she had to touch him lately to satisfy some unknown urge. He didn't seem to mind though.

"OK, we've captured all the data. The virus has replicated and all the remote locations slaved to this node have been infected as well without any alarms. Let's get the flock out of here, Jill."

He grinned up at her and then looked over at the body of the woman who'd been unlucky enough to be on duty in the center. _Another good agent lost to the dark side._

There was blood all over his palms from the chair and he didn't notice the palm prints he left on the vault door when he pushed it open and motioned Jill to 'lead the way'.

* * *

They made it out to the vans without any problems and the drive to the airport was unimpeded. Once they boarded the aircraft she handed him a water bottle and two pills.

"Chuck, just a precaution. Things got pretty intense in there and your BP is probably higher than the medics want it to be. Just pop the pills and then let's cuddle up and take a nap. You'll need all your strength when we get back to the apartment, honey. I'm so ramped up right now. You were great and so focused! We'll hurry the briefing and get Casey to give us some down-time. You were so…great in there."

"Post-mission coitus? I thought that was frowned upon?"

He was teasing her, knowing how horny she got after her initial adrenalin rush died. He took the pills because she wanted him to and because he didn't want her to worry. A quick nap sounded like just what the doctor ordered.

She watched him take his meds and smiled. He _had_ been focused and performed beyond their expectations. There'd been no hesitation, no fumbling around, and no questions, just a focused and mission-driven Chuck Bartowski.

Maybe that long philosophical discussion would bear fruit. She'd talk to her Director. Maybe they could lure him over to their side with a slightly altered version of the truth and she'd not have to surrender what she'd willingly thrown away years before?

She leaned over and whispered something in his ear that made him blush and grow uncomfortable in the tight mission coveralls. Dr. Jill Roberts Bartowski, PhD in Genetics and Neurobiology, was both a genius and a kinky lover as demonstrated by her whispered description of her planned actions once they debriefed and then 'debriefed' at home.

The cargo plane flew 'nap of the earth' and droned on across the border into Mexico and on to their base still further south in the Mexican desert and 'Winter, Nevada' where they were secure thanks to their affiliation with the Mexican drug cartel and an exchange of cash and services.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the 'real world', the remainder of Team Bartowski and its affiliated members continued on with their lives, compensating and coping and finding new relationships to fill the void that had once been occupied by the entity known as 'Chuck'.


	4. Searching for the Enemy

Sleepingwiththeenemy4

* * *

Day 114

Operations Center  
Winter, Nevada

The debriefing was by phone. Fulcrum had somehow managed to break the encryption codes on the video channels and so any briefings were held via hard-wired fiber optics that were impossible to breach without an alarm. The 'engineer geek' in Chuck often wondered why they didn't just send the video feed via the same link but figured it was none of his business anymore. Agents weren't 'geeks' or even 'Nerds'. No way.

"Good work, moron. I'm sure Jill is pleased you aren't full of holes or dead. Why didn't you wait for security to clear the operations room before charging in there? You know the rules, Chuck. They're 'rules' with a purpose – to keep your worthless ass alive to protect what's in your head."

"General Casey, Chuck was aware of the time element. The Fulcrum combinations were more heavily encrypted than _your_ intel reported. And he's not a damned moron! He breached the new encryption like a hot knife through butter on-site, something your best and brightest would have taken hours to do. We accomplished our mission and withdrew without significant casualties. What more do you want, Casey?"

"Jill, calm down, baby. Um, Casey, I just wanted to get it done. We were behind the time line because of faulty intel on the mag-locks. Everything else was smooth sailing. What's next on your agenda?"

"Nothing for now. Take a week off. Why don't you swing down to the Baja and get in some surfing and fishing. I think your wife needs a break, Bartowski. She's pushing my buttons!"

"Damn you, John Casey! Ever since you made frikkin' General you've been…"

The rest was muffled as Chuck covered her mouth with his hand and told Casey "that's a good idea, John. Sorry about her…it must be that time of the month. I'll talk with you again when we're in place. How's the foot? Still aching in the cold up there?"

"Uh, no. It's fine. Just keep her in line and away from me until the damned hormones are back in balance. Casey out."

She bit his hand and he jerked it away. "Damn him! You ran a perfect mission and he jumps all over you for…" He stopped her rant with a kiss and then hugged her, afraid she'd say something they'd both regret.

"Shhh. He was right but wrong too. He wasn't there. I swear he's getting like Beckman. All stoic. It's cold as hell up there and his foot is probably aching but he wouldn't admit it. He's still pissed at me for shooting his toe off."

Jill sobered up immediately. The 'toe incident' happened at the Buy More and wasn't part of their conditioning scenario. Was he shaking off the conditioning and hypno-suggestions or was he simply reintegrating his memories and accepting that some things didn't make sense?

"I can't believe he called you a 'moron', Chuck. He just pisses me off so badly…" Another rant stifled by lips and then he whispered, "Jill, I want to do nasty things to you, baby. I love it when you go all postal on anyone but me. Makes me so hard. Here, feel for yourself!"

He put her hand on his crotch and then waggled his eyebrows. She practically dragged him back to their apartment. The memory of the previous night's 'sex experiments'...

It wasn't that time of the month at all. He just wanted to 'aim' Casey at someone other than Jill.

'_Why didn't Casey make a snarky comment on his 'widdle piggy' like he always did? He never passed up the chance to rag me on his sole 'friendly fire incident'. Thankfully Jill's got post-mission hornies or she might have noticed the slip. Was it a false memory or something that really happened? It seemed so real.'_

Across the compound, the man impersonating the voice of John Casey reviewed his case file. Was Bartowski's reference to Casey's foot a reference to something that actually existed or was he testing the veracity of the unseen voice? He sent an email to a mole at the NSA asking for any information on a 'condition' re John Casey's foot. He also alerted Medical to a possible conditioning failure and asked for their recommendations.

* * *

Bartowski Apartment  
Restricted Units

Jill collapsed onto Chuck, breathless and still reeling from his sexual assault. He'd been all over her, kissing, caressing and she'd been all over him as well. It had been one of the most intense and satisfying times since they'd first made love the night he was brought out of conditioning.

'_Whoa! When did fucking and screwing the mark become making love? I can't be that far gone, I just can't. He's my mark and I'm going to have to do terrible things to him before he's dumped on the trash pile and picked up by his team._ _Distance. I need some distance to center myself. My mission comes first.'_

"I love you, Jill. Those words don't begin to cover how I feel."

"Chuck, don't. Just savor the moment. I know you love me, baby, and I hope you know how I feel. I just want us safe so that we can raise our baby in peace without any of this spy crap."

"Jill…you're pregnant?" He rolled her over on her back and stared into her eyes. She could see the love and the longing and she hated to crush his euphoria.

"No, honey, you haven't knocked me up yet. We'll keep trying. I'm glad you want a baby, Chuck. I was so afraid last time that you'd be angry with me for an unplanned pregnancy that I almost got rid of it…"

"No! No, I could never be angry with you for bringing our child into the world. And don't ever think of an abortion! Never. We'll disappear and go somewhere and live under the radar. We can do it, y'know?"

She was momentarily shocked at his vehemence and at his determination to bring a child into their marriage. Maybe…no, it wasn't possible, was it? Maybe…maybe a child would keep him here with her and Fulcrum. What better hostage could she have? What leverage a child would be to keep him with her always? This was something to think about and perhaps bring to the Council for consideration.

There was an alternative but it was almost unthinkable after all this time but it would provide a means of extraction for the both of them if things failed to develop as the syndicate desired. She waited until Chuck was asleep and then made a series of calls on a secure phone to initiate certain steps.

* * *

Day 118

Buy More Parking Lot  
Burbank, CA

John Casey finished up his shift at the Buy More. He'd been promoted to assistant manager and soon he'd be offered the manager slot when Big Mike retired to his beloved fishing boat. He looked across the locker room at Chuck's locker. There were still 'offerings' taped to it, and photos of him and his friends. He missed the moron. Things had settled down into a rut without him to harass. The only good thing to come out of all this was that he'd finally found someone he could be himself with – Ellie Bartowski.

He walked out to the lot and unlocked his truck. A note had been taped to the steering wheel. He opened the folded piece of paper and almost dropped it. It was two words. Only two.

_**Bartowski Lives!**_

He shook off his moment of shock. Idiots. It was like a rallying cry for the Nerds. Whenever things got tense one of them could be counted on to shout "Bartowski Lives!" as if bringing his memory alive for the moment could make a virus wither and die or a cranky drive suddenly begin performing to specs. Idiots.

'_How the hell did they get into my truck without tripping the alarms?'_

* * *

Day 121

The Farm  
Outside Langley, VA

Senior Training Agent Emily Tucker strolled behind the row of agents-in-training as they threw knives at a target 10 feet away. She shook her head in dismay, her dark brunette ponytail braid flicking back and forth like the tail of a hunting lioness.

Not one of the 10 trainees in her group had thrown a blade that actually stuck in the target. Many hit the target on the handle, the full extension of the blade and a lot of them missed outright. But not one trainee had thrown the knife and had it land point first in the target.

"You trainees are the most pathetic bunch of losers I've ever seen. I've given you demonstrations, I've shown each of you individually how to hold and throw the blade. I've trained you and retrained you and this – this display of ineptness is humiliating." Her voice was cold and unemotional and delivered with a hint of disgust.

Just then another training agent came up to her and handed her a sealed intra-agency envelope.

She opened the envelope and read the folded note inside and said "Trainees, slit your wrists with your knives and save some Fulcrum agent the trouble of shooting you. Dismissed!"

She crumpled up the paper and threw it down, hurrying after the man who delivered the note. Tears were coursing down her cheeks and several of the trainees had seen them and were talking among themselves. One of the students picked up the offending note. It was two simple words:

_**Bartowski Lives!**_

"You, Agent! Who gave you that note? Where did you get it? Answer me, damn you!"

The stunned agent turned and caught the full blast of her laser-like glare. Blue eyes, ice cold, waited impatiently for a response.

"The envelope was in the daily distribution from Langley. Jesus, Tucker, what happened? Someone send you to a collection agency or something? Check the return address on the intra-office envelope. You need to dial down the intensity a notch, Agent. You're wound tighter than a cheap watch."

His eyes widened in fear and he turned around and walked briskly away. She had _growled_ at him and his vestigial monkey brain told him to scurry into the treetops to escape the predator.

The one line entry for the address read 'Burbank, CA'. There no longer was a functional office in Burbank, CA. There'd never been an official or recognized operational Castle in Burbank.

The entire thing was so deep-cover that not even the operational name had been recorded but few knew about the Omaha Project and fewer still about the 'intersect program' and only a closely-guarded handful, no more than a half dozen, knew the name 'Bartowski'.

Totally flustered and feeling the need for some validation, she checked her watch and smirked. 'Screw him. He retired. Let him start his day early'. She dialed a number from memory and listened to it ring and ring until finally a sleepy woman answered '_Dr. Bartowski'_.

She almost dropped the phone in shock. Casey and Ellie? What about…what about Devon? One of her trainees handed her the crumpled note she'd discarded without thinking. She smiled at him and he recoiled in horror of what he'd just seen. 'Tucker the Fucker' did not smile – unless she was 'fucking over' some poor trainee who failed to live up to her incredibly high standards.

"Ellie, hi. It's..."

"_I know about you and Casey. He told me everything. Now I understand why your relationship with my brother was 'complicated' and I'm sorry I wasn't more supportive. Wait a minute and I'll wake him. And before you say a single word, it's OK. Talk to him. Maybe you can convince him to see someone about his nightmares. I'm going to make coffee."_

She heard Ellie trying to wake Casey and smiled. Casey and Ellie. Who'd ever have figured…

"_John, John, sweetie, someone's on the phone and she needs to talk to you. Wake up and talk to her. I'm making coffee."_

"_This is Casey. What's wrong with waiting an hour or two to call me? Jesus, it's not even 6am here."_

"John, I got a note in the intra-agency distribution this morning. The note read 'Bartowski Lives!'. Nothing else just two words."

"_Jesus, a couple of days ago, taped to the steering wheel of my truck. I got a note with the same message. I thought it was one of the green shirts or Herders playing their usual games. You got one? What the hell do you think it means?"_

"Is someone trying to tell us something?"

"_I think this is way above my pay grade. I'm out of the service now. My contacts are limited. You're still active. Check with Beckman. Tell her I got the same note. I'll wait for your response. I – I didn't think anything about the note, Walker. I just…I just didn't put any credence to it."_

"Casey, could we have missed something? Could Chuck still be…alive?"

"_Check with Beckman. She'll contact me if she needs my side of it."_

* * *

Secure Residential Apartments  
Washington, DC

General Diane Beckman stared at the note taped to the refrigerator door in the kitchen of the apartment she kept in DC for crises and overnight meetings.

'_**Bartowski Lives!'**_

Her cell phone chirped and she answered automatically. "Beckman, secure." She didn't check the caller ID. She was totally stunned.

"_General, this is Agent Emily Tucker. Ma'am, both Major Casey and I have received notes saying…"_

"'_Bartowski Lives_', right? I'm looking at one taped to the refrigerator door of my DC apartment. How did you and Casey receive yours?"

"_Casey's still in Burbank. His was taped to the steering wheel of his truck during broad daylight a few days ago. He thought it was one of the Buy More guys just having some fun at his expense so he just blew it off. I got mine intra-agency mail from Burbank, California an hour ago. I called him and he confirmed his note."_

"I haven't been to this apartment in the past week so I can't really say when mine was 'delivered' but they defeated some of the best security in the business to get in here, not to mention into the building itself."

"_General, could it…could it be true? Could Bartowski still be alive and a prisoner some place? Could it be true?"_

Beckman noted the hope that bled through Tucker's words – and the longing. So, someone was compromised? Big deal. There was more at stake here than either Casey or Tucker knew.

"Agent Tucker, you service to your country is appreciated but not longer required. _Agent Walker_, pack your bags and prepare for a long-term assignment with the NSA. Casey is coming back on active duty and the three of us will meet in my office in a few days to discuss this and make plans. I'll take care of the transfer. You get to DC ASAP! Contact my Chief of Staff for instructions and a schedule. I'll notify Mr. Casey of his recall to active duty."

* * *

APR


	5. Twisted Enemy

Day 124

NSA HQ  
FT Meade, MD

"Agent Walker, your note is identical to mine and to Major Casey's. It is written on a common yellow post-it available anywhere. The handwriting is different and the ink indicates each was written with a different pen. Any ideas?"

"It has to be someone who knows that Chuck was the intersect, who knows that Casey and I were involved with him and further, that someone knows that you're the control for the project. Why else leave notes for the three of us and not anyone else?"

"I asked around the Buy More and no one has received anything like it. I don't think they'd lie to me. It's a legitimate notification that Bartowski is alive as far as I'm concerned. Who wrote it is important only because they may know where he'd being held and by whom. I'm also interested in how they defeated the security around your building, General."

"You're assuming Bartowski's alive and not ash in a junk yard. That's a big assumption, Major Casey. I've had this building combed by experts and there is no evidence of tampering with alarms, glitches in the surveillance tapes or any other obvious signs. I've had the staff investigated and they're clean."

"Whoever it is knows I'm at the Farm and that you have an apartment in DC, General, and that Casey still lives and works in Burbank. Doesn't that provide any candidates?"

"There is one likely 'candidate' but I don't think the agent in question is involved. There would be too much risk of discovery and that would result in the agent's death either at the hands of Fulcrum or the CIA. This agent, well, this agent has been undercover for a long time and is finally in a position to influence events to our advantage. The CIA has issued a sanction order and I can't pull it without revealing the nature of the agent's assignment. I don't trust the CIA with this information, I just can't."

"OK, General, what do you suggest we do? You didn't call us here unless you had something in mind, right?" Casey had never seen Beckman so…unfocused.

She pointed to the large plasma monitor set in the wall in the conference room and said, " These security images are all that could be gleaned from the Tucson Intel operation. The facility was attacked 10 days ago. All personnel either killed or incapacitated. A virus was uploaded into the system corrupting the CIA's series of main frames that had been networked into it."

She clicked her mouse and an image fills the screen. The body of a security guard lies in front of the vault door leading to the computer center.

Another click.

The inside of the computer center. An analyst's body lies behind a wheeled office chair that is covered in blood.

Another click.

The inside of the vault door with two bloody palm prints impressed where the saboteur pushed on the door to open it and exit.

"We've received far better images of the prints from the CIA after waiting for their bureaucracy to finally remember we're in this together."

She turned and looked at Casey and Walker sitting on opposite sides of the conference table.

"Bartowski lives". She turned and pointed to the screen again.

Another click.

Charles Bartowski's NSA/CIA asset file, complete with prints and photographs fills the screen. Unlike the other images, the file is crisp and clean.

"The palm prints belong to Charles Bartowski. There is no doubt. I – _we _– the Director and I, feel that," again a hesitation.

"We believe that Fulcrum has Mr. Bartowski. He's either willingly participating or…"

She hesitated again and that caused both agents to look at each other for the first time since sitting at the conference table.

"We suspect that the Fulcrum download he absorbed twice during the cul-de-sac operation had side effects, perhaps overriding his will. We don't know where he is now but we certainly know where he was 10 days ago."

Another click and the screen blanked out.

"Now, agents, I want your gut opinions, not your professional ones couched in Agency bullshit. Did he defect? Was his participation in the Tucson raid a willing one or was he coerced somehow?"

Casey spoke with a firm resolve that Sarah wished Chuck could have heard. "Chuck Bartowski would _never_ betray his country. _Never."_

Beckman nodded and then turned her expectant gaze on Sarah.

"And you, Agent Walker? You were the closest thing he had to a friend in this mess. What do you think? You spent the most time with him."

"I – I don't know. He hasn't been acting like himself lately. He seemed distracted and - I just don't know," she hesitated.

_I was the damned distraction. I was everything he'd ever wanted when we'd been under cover in the cul-de-sac and he had the balls to ask if any of it had been real. His anger and disappointment had been palpable and she'd been given a taste of Bartowski Reality when he bluntly told her to stay out of his private life._

"I think if he were approached with the right enticement, yes, he might have defected. He wanted more and I wouldn't give him what he wanted. He was angry and told me to butt out of his private life since we were 'just friends'."

"Agent Walker, you're surely not saying that Bartowski would betray his country for _**sex**_, are you? That's…" She sputtered and looked at Casey as if asking for help.

Sarah was shocked and one glance at Casey showed she'd get zero support from him.

"He…he wanted more than a cover relationship, General Beckman, and that would have been disastrous. He's not like us. He doesn't fake emotions and he doesn't realize that…"

"Major Casey, please wait in the outer office. Agent Walker and I have a few things to settle. I'll buzz you when I want you to return."

Casey frowned and left. Walker was certainly a piece of work. Chuck had finally 'manned up' and she'd been forced into a corner and he'd called her bluff.

He'd listened to their conversations more than once on the 'prohibited' bugs he'd placed throughout her vehicle and her hotel suite. Rules didn't apply where the intersect host was concerned.

She was afraid of acknowledging what a blind and deaf man would have known in an instant. She'd deferred and deflected again and again until he finally demanded an answer. When she fed him the official Company line, he reacted in the only way he could. Casey had been almost proud of the moron.

While Casey stewed in the outer office Beckman called her aide for 'coffee service for two and hold my calls'. She leaned back in her chair and spent five seconds looking over the agent who sat stone-like across the desk from her.

"Agent Walker, the intersect host," she seemed to rethink her statement and then continued, "er, Chuck Bartowski, is a man. A regular, ordinary, civilian who has been thrust into our world that is full of lies, half-truths, deception, betrayal, intrigue and danger. He's struggling to adapt and survive."

The aide interrupted with a knock and slipped in and deposited the tray with the carafe full of coffee and cups and miscellaneous items on a small table and then slipped out just as quickly and quietly but not before giving Walker a look of…sympathy?

"Agent Walker, Sarah, assuming we can successfully extract Chuck Bartowski, he'll have to be either kept in protective custody or…"

"Wait, _protective custody._ That's your phrase for a bunker, isn't it, General? And what if we can't 'successfully extract' him? What? Kill him?"

Beckman ignored the interruption. She'd deal with it later. "As I was saying, protective custody or WitSec or deep cover assuming he can still function as the intersect. He'll need someone to watch over him, to watch out for him. He'll need someone…he'll need you, Sarah, if you're willing."

"I was doing that in L.A. and look what happened! I pushed him away just like I was supposed to and then I pulled him back in just like I was supposed to…back and forth until neither of us…"

"I see. All right. If he can be successfully extracted and can function, I'll assign someone else. I had assumed…but never mind. Ask Major Casey to join us."

"No! That's not what I meant at all. I want to be his 'watcher'…but I want more than is allowed. It's all or nothing. Those are my terms. You should know that up front, General."

Beckman's laugh shocked Sarah. "I've known about it for quite some time, Sarah. For a spy, you're not too creative in creating 'covers under the covers'. I agree to your terms. Now, get Major Casey for me. We have to investigate and search for our missing asset."

* * *

Day 141

Winter, Nevada  
Conference Room

"Dr. Roberts, we are quite pleased with the mark's progress and I'm pleased to approve your plans to 'convert' young Bartowski to Fulcrum. I know that you've prepared a series of 'briefings' for his therapy sessions that will begin the process. Once he's fully conditioned, _Prometheus_ can be overwritten and his ability to 'flash' will be restored. Excellent work, Doctor!"

"That's all I have time for. Submit your amended plans and we'll consider them."

The screen went blank and Jill wiped away the beads of sweat on her upper lip with a tissue. _'That was close. The bastards think I'm throwing Chuck away again. I'm not. He's mine. I earned this second chance and by God I'll have it…and him."_

* * *

She still wasn't pregnant but it wasn't for lack of trying. She desperately wanted a child to bind him to her so that even if he somehow learned the truth he'd still stay by her side. She'd gone so far as to convince the doctor on the project to provide her with 'libido enhancing drugs' telling her that "the mark is beginning to bore me and I really need to maintain my interest and enthusiasm'. What do you have that can help?"

The weekly injections had relaxed her emotional control but had also turned her desire for sex with Chuck into an unquenchable thirst. He had whispered 'Sarah' when he climaxed their very first time together after his capture but now it was 'I love you, Jill'.

The next one of his 'therapy sessions' would make her very name a curse word for Chuck.

* * *

Day 145

'The Tank'  
Fulcrum Medical Facility  
Winter, Nevada

Jill whispered "Execute Achilles, I say again, _execute Achilles_."

His facial expressions solidified into a frozen mask and he kept his gaze fixed on the flickering displays. Thousands of images and snippets of 'recordings' poured into his brain that he would be told were 'recovered memories' from before his head wound.

Jill smiled, kissed him on the cheek and then left the darkened chamber. She removed her protective glasses and logged out. He'd be 'busy' for the next 24 hours and she wanted everything to be in place and ready for his next 'awakening'.

* * *

Day 147

He woke up with a nagging headache and slipped out of bed in search of some 'good drugs'. Chuck glanced at the clock beside the bed and shook his head. 6AM. He might as well go for a run before it got too hot and after a post-run shower he'd cook breakfast for them. Pancakes.

He got dressed for his run, gave his wife a lingering kiss on the lips and laughed when she murmured 'No, baby, I – wanna sleep'. He started the coffee and left. The sun was just peaking over the mountains and he nodded to the guard at the gate and set out for his morning 5 miles. It was good to be alone with his thoughts.

'_Achilles is on his run. All stations be advised that Circe is still in residence. All stations continue monitoring.' _

He was just hitting his stride when he had a flash of memory…Portland.

_Bryce was down, his head almost gone and Sarah was crawling along on the floor, her back against the corridor wall. She looked back at Chuck and smiled and then shot him._

He staggered to a halt, bent over at the waist, fell to his knees and vomited.

Jill was pulled out of a deep sleep by the shrill alarm that echoed throughout the apartment. She hurried to dress while talking on the phone.

'_Achilles is down, unconscious, after vomiting. His pupils are reactive but he's in some kind of a fugue state. He's being transported to Medical per your instructions.'_

"I'll meet them there. He'll need another session. Set up the second series of tapes. He's primed and ready."


	6. Escaping from the Enemy

A Holiday Double Header. Going home and won't be posting for a while.

* * *

Day 155

Medical Facility  
Winter, Nevada

Chuck awoke to the sound of a heart monitor and the gentle snoring of his wife who was lying against him in the…hospital bed? Oh, crap!

"Jill, wake up, honey. What happened this time? This crap is really getting old. C'mon, babe, wakey-wakey."

She woke, leaned up on one elbow and glared at him.

"You broke your promise to me, Chuck. You went out alone and ran…in this heat…5 miles. You passed out and when you didn't come back to the apartment I panicked and sent out an alert. They found you on the road behind the clubhouse, unconscious. Damn it…"

"You wouldn't wake up and besides, it was a _memory_! I didn't pass out…well, OK, maybe I did but it was a memory, Jill, and if anyone should be angry it's me."

"You? Why the hell should you be mad at me?"

"Walker defected. Walker shot me. Walker made us lose the baby! You lied to me, Jill. What else have you been lying about? She's turned to Fulcrum and she led us into a trap!"

"She turned rogue, baby. She was hoping to sell you to the highest bidder and retire and go dark. She's not Fulcrum, I swear to you. She's not. Fulcrum wouldn't have her. She's too damned unstable."

"So where is the bitch? I want to kill her for what she did to you."

"Last anyone heard, she'd gone deep and no one's heard a thing from her. Casey's got a hit team scouring the planet looking for her but she's the best at what she does. She'll slip up someday and then either we'll get her or Fulcrum will take her out for us."

"But…"

She laid a finger on his lips and smiled. "Let's get the doc to unhook all this crap. You're good to go. We were just waiting for you to wake up from your nap. See, sweetie, I told you that you'd get your memory back and I was right. Another piece of Chuck Bartowski has been restored."

* * *

Day 165

DEA Safe House  
Laredo, Texas

The Cartel provided Fulcrum with the safe haven known as 'Winter, Nevada' and demanded a rescue in exchange for continued use of what was fast becoming the main operations center for Fulcrum in North America.

Time was of the essence since the DEA was notorious for moving prisoners constantly. The Cartel provided the location and staffing of the safe house and so the assault team flew into Laredo, Texas to rescue one-each son of one of the Cartel heads. Once again, Chuck climbed into a windowless van for the trip to the attack site.

The mission was simple: attack a DEA safe house and extract the prisoner being held for questioning. It was a simple and straight-forward smash-and-grab but somehow someone forgot to tell the agents who were interrogating the prisoner.

Chuck had been 'briefed' that the DEA had plucked out one of the CIA's deep cover agents and his identity couldn't become known or his operation would be blown so they were sent to 'rescue' him and dump him back into his cover in Mexico.

"Chuck, you stay with me and don't do anything crazy, please? This shouldn't even be our task, damn it! You're too valuable to risk on something this damned stupid." He'd had two more sessions of hypnotherapy supported by the downloaded CGI images.

"Jill, I'm fine, honey. The docs gave me a clean bill of health. No more blackouts and the headaches are gone, too. Just chill, will ya?"

"I told them you're still in recovery but does Casey listen to me? No! Please, stay with me, Chuck. Promise me?"

"OK, I promise, Jill. Jesus, I don't know why you're making a big deal out of this. There are six of us and only two of them. We got the firepower and the element of surprise. We'll just gas 'em and then truss them up and take the target back to his hide site. No sweat."

"The orders are to leave the DEA agents unharmed. Remember that. No matter what happens, we don't want the DEA getting and come sniffing around our mole's cover. Anonymity is his best weapon, Chuck, so don't get excited and put a cap into the wrong ass, OK?"

"That was an accident! Jesus, it was his toe, not his ass! He never mentions it so it's no big thing."

Their mole had provided them with the tale of how Casey lost his toe, or his _widdle piggy_ as her husband laughingly referred to it. Jill didn't even notice that the mark had become her 'husband' in her thoughts. Compromise was so subtle.

"I know, baby, but just this once, be a little more careful? I got a bad feeling about this op." She loved ragging on him, especially about this particular incident but she did have serious reservations about using Chuck in such operations.

"Fine. Shrew."

"Butt head."

They introduced the knock out gas through the air conditioning system. It was very hot in Laredo even at 2AM and it ensured an even distribution throughout the small Spanish style house. They waited 20 minutes then the entry team put on their masks.

"OK, let's go. We'll go in the through the garage and then into the house. Make sure you trank the DEA agents and then the target. We don't want him screaming and yelling and waking up the whole neighborhood. We want to be in and out in 2 minutes. Go!" The team leader had been given specific instructions that 'the mark' was not to enter the dwelling.

Jill and Chuck were watching the patio from the back lawn when Jill heard a commotion around the side of the house and went to investigate. They didn't want the DEA agents to make an escape. They didn't want anyone to know that the Cartel hadn't rescued the target.

"Stay here, Chuck, and don't shoot me when I come back, OK?" He could hear the smile in her voice as she whispered her warning and then slipped off to investigate the noise.

A few seconds later Chuck saw a match flare as someone on the patio lit a cigarette. Shit. He pulled out his trank gun and crawled forward hoping he could get in a shot before Jill came strolling around the corner and got shot by the DEA smoker for her trouble.

Jill made a noise. He heard it and so did the smoker. He watched the silhouette, black against the feeble light coming from the kitchen beyond the patio doors, stand and draw a weapon. Jill walked around the corner without a care in the world and the DEA agent aimed and fired off a single shot, dropping her in her tracks.

"_**Jill!**_" The agent turned to fire at the sound of his voice but hesitated when Chuck stood up and aimed the trank gun at her, his face lit by the light from the kitchen.

"Chuck? Chuck Bartowski? Y – you're dead!" Carina Hansen lowered her weapon in shock. He was dead. Walker had told her during a tearful phone call 4 months previously.

He fired the trank gun even as pain shot through his head making him drop to his knees and drop the pistol to cradle his head. He knew her. She was Sarah's best friend and she'd tried to seduce him after the diamond op. She told him that she and Sarah were very competitive and that she always slept with Sarah's boyfriends just so she could lord it over her.

The pressure in his head grew until he screamed and passed out.

* * *

Day 166

NSA Headquarters  
FT Meade, MD  
4AM

Sarah's cell jolted her from another nightmare about her lost asset. She was sweating and had managed to totally destroy her bed with her thrashing.

"Walker, secure."

"Beckman, secure. Get over here now. We've got a lead, a strong lead. We're going to go get him back."

* * *

4:30AM

Beckman's office

The General's office looked like the command post for the invasion of Normandy. Military aides were bustling around, the General was talking to someone on a video conference while other aides plotted what looked like drop zones and landing zones on a topographical map. A larger map hung on the other wall. Mexico. There was a large red X plotted near the western coast of a desert area.

"Ah, Walker. Good! A friend of yours saw Bartowski last evening in Laredo, Texas. Identity was confirmed. He was one of a group of Fulcrum operatives who liberated a Cartel member's son from a DEA safe house. Bartowski tranked her but she saw him grab his head and scream and collapse right before she passed out. It's definitely Bartowski!"

"Hey, Sarah!" Walker spun and saw Carina Hansen's image on the main screen.

"You're sure it was him, Carina?" Her heart would shatter if she said 'maybe' or any other qualifier.

"Yep. He's got a beard and scars on his head and face but it was definitely Chuck Bartowski, alive and kicking. I'd slipped out onto the patio for a smoke and had been sitting there when they slipped the knock out gas in through the A/C. I heard someone coming from around the side of the house and engaged them and fired, taking them out. Bartowski rose up from the grass about 10 feet away, screamed 'Jill!' and then aimed a trank pistol at me. Definitely him."

Sarah couldn't breathe. He was alive!

"Agent Walker, sit before you fall. I need you and Major Casey to lead the rescue team. We've plotted the route their aircraft took and kept it on radar to its terminus. One of my sharper analysts pulled the aircraft records from Tucson and did the same – and resected that aircraft's flight path back to the same location."

Casey handed her a cup of coffee. "Ah, gunplay at last. The moron's good for something at least." Sarah turned to say something ugly but saw the big smile on Casey's face and just smiled.

"We'll stage at Lackland AFB in San Antonio. The Air Force is going to lend us some troop carriers and a B-1 to drop some 'special munitions' they've been dying to test. The clock is ticking. 24 hours from now."

* * *

Same Day

Fulcrum Medical facility  
Winter, Nevada

He woke up in Hell. His head hurt, his face hurt, he hurt all over.

Jill was asleep in the chair beside his bed, her left arm in a sling and it looked like she'd been through hell herself. He nudged her leg and she was instantly awake and on the attack.

"You ass! What the hell possessed you to let her see your face? We're in so much trouble, Chuck. You should have let me handle it. I swear to God, you want this to fail! You're so close to being…"

"You were down! She shot you! She was damned lucky I recognized her and tranked her instead of blowing her fucking head off! She shot you, baby, and I panicked! Sue me for giving a shit about my wife…"

He quit talking and pulled out the IV from his hand and checked his crotch to make sure he wouldn't rip off something he valued before jumping out of the bed and storming into the small bathroom, slamming the door.

She tried to open the door but it was locked. He was so…stubborn! "Damn you, Bartowski, open up this damned door this instant or I'll…I'll…" and she dissolved into tears. Damned hormones! She leaned her forehead against the door and sobbed her heart out.

They were going to scrub the entire operation and just suck his mind dry of knowledge and then kill him. She thought about just telling him the truth and letting him try and make it out on his own but she knew he wouldn't leave her behind. She had to try.

He jerked the bathroom door open and she fell into his arms, unprepared to lose her support so suddenly.

"Let's go home, baby. I need some serious lovin'. We can have makeup sex, wife, OK?" His eyebrows danced and she melted against him.

"Chuck, we have to talk."

The most dreaded 4 words in Man's English language. _We have to talk._


	7. Rescued from the Enemy

Sleepingwiththeenemy6

A/N: You bloody ungrateful bastuds can thank my Nik for this. If I had my way I'd have waited another month to update. Last time I gave you TWO...won't happen again. In fact THIS might be the last unappreciated chapter. I'd rather sleep at Heathrow than worry about this crap. And yes, I'm cranky. IT'S CHARAH TIME.

NOTE: STORY POV WILL SHIFT TO SARAH'S AS SHE TRIES TO MAKE SENSE OF WHAT'S BEEN DONE TO CHUCK AND HELP HIM FIND HIS WAY BACK TO REALITY. LOTS OF REALITY CHECKS. THE TEAM LIVES WITH KNOWING THAT CHUCK'S FUSE HAS BEEN LIT AND NOW IT'S A RACE TO RESTORE HIM TO SANITY OR PUT HIM DOWN LIKE A RABID DOG BEFORE HIS PROGRAM KICKS IN. PROMETHEUS, ACHILLES AND ICARUS. CAN SARAH FIGURE OUT WHAT EACH PROGRAM DID AND CAN STILL DO? WILL SHE SAVE HIM OR BE THE ONE TO END HIM? AND IS JILL REALLY DONE WITH HIM?

* * *

**Day 166 (continued)**

"Chuck, do you trust me?"

"Of course I do! Why ask such a stupid question? What's going on here, Jill?"

"Nothing I can't handle, beloved. Now, I want you to listen and do exactly what I tell you to do. There are things happening that you can't possibly understand but you have to trust me. I have our best interests at heart, baby, believe me."

Actually, she had _her_ best interests at heart. She'd had a conversation with her immediate superior while Chuck had been unconscious and as a result of that conversation had made a huge decision.

"You're scaring me, Jill. This isn't like you to be so damned mysterious and obtuse. What's going on? You wanted to talk, so talk."

"Not yet. Not until we're someplace no prying ears can hear us. Trust me, Chuck. I haven't let you down yet, have I?"

"Fine. So where is this mysterious place that is…"

Jill led him down the hallway away from his room into a corridor of closed doors and stopped at one clearly marked, 'Storage'.

"We're here, almost. Follow me." She keyed in a combination on the lock and leaned in for a retina scan and the door clicked open with a '_**clack**_' that rebounded down the hallway. Jill seemed to cringe at the sound but then pulled open the door and shoved him through it.

It _was_ a storage closet – apparently for maintenance if the odor of Lysol and the sour smell of mops and buckets that filled the place was any indication of its purpose. She didn't turn on a light and just stepped in front of him, took him by the hand and pulled him through the maze until they reached the back wall made of painted cinder blocks.

"Jill…"

"Shhh! No talking. Not now."

She pressed a few of the blocks and the wall swung inward on gimbals revealing a control room and a medical operating room that could be seen through the glass window that separated the two rooms.

She pulled him through the opening and then slammed the 'wall' shut. From this side, it was obviously a secure door made of heavy metal plates. Jill started up a computer, hit the light bar controlling the ceiling lights in both rooms and then breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

"Come with me, Chuck. I'll explain everything to you but you just have to trust me." She pulled him into the operating room and pointed to the gurney. He noticed that one wall was a big mirror. He hopped up on the gurney, his feet swinging back and forth like a little kid.

"Jill, where are we? Why all the cloak and dagger?" He laughed. They were spies. Everything was cloak and dagger.

"OK, Chuck. Sit. Listen. Listen only to the sound of my voice. I love you, Chuck. _Delete Prometheus."_

Chuck's smile froze and his eyes rolled up into the back of his head and he began shaking slightly like he was shivering. Jill pushed him down on his back and quickly and efficiently stripped him of all his clothing. She extended two 'wings' from the gurney and secured each of his arms using restraints and inserted an IV drip into each arm. She used the remaining restraints to totally secure him to the gurney and then pushed a foot pedal that raised it so that he was almost standing, still affixed to the gurney.

Jill attached EEG sensors and ran more sensors from the EKG to his chest all the while keeping an eye on him for signs of severe distress.

"Chuck, listen only to the sound of my voice. I love you, Chuck. _Remember Achilles._"

He moaned and a small bit of blood trickled from one of his nostrils. She used a piece of gauze to clean it up and checked the EEG monitor for any dangerous spikes. So far, so good. She pulled a monitor and keyboard over to her and keyed up a series of programs.

Only one step remained and then they would be done with Chuck Bartowski. She pulled down what appeared to be a futuristic diver's helmet and placed it over his head, clamped it shut and dropped the visor. It wasn't air tight but did have a separate oxygen supply that kicked in automatically when the helmet cover clicked shut.

Everything was in order.

* * *

NSA Headquarters  
Beckman's Operations Room

An analyst rushed in to the General's meeting, interrupting her and handing her a slip of paper. She glanced at it and her eyes widened. She looked up at the map and then down at the piece of paper. The coordinates were the same. The deep cover mole had initiated an extraction request for her and another agent. She was a medical doctor and was assigned to a Hive location in Central Mexico.

The room quieted when Beckman announced, "The mission timetable has been scrapped. All units are to be in position by 1800 hrs tonight. The Air Force will drop their package at 1900 hrs and the troop drop will commence at 1915 hours. We have two targets, a CIA deep cover agent and our Mr. Bartowski. Bring them both home alive. Move it, people!"

She called Casey and Walker who were onboard a military business jet en route to Laredo and advised them of the mission changes.

* * *

**Aboard G3 Somewhere over Missouri**

'_There will be nothing between us this time. This time I'll tell you anything you want to know and I'll do it gladly. This time won't be like the last time. There'll be nothing between us but sweat. I'm coming, Chuck, hang on!'_

* * *

Fulcrum Medical Facility  
Winter, Nevada  
1750 Hours

Jill spoke softly into a microphone that was connected to the helmet Chuck wore.

"Chuck. I love you. Remember that always. Remember…remember that I always loved you and that I never wanted to hurt you…remember that. Oh, and Chuck…we're pregnant!"

She fiddled with some last minute code entries before continuing.

"Chuck. I love you. _Execute Icarus…I repeat, execute Icarus. _She hit the 'enter key' and then left the room, turning out the lights and leaving her 'husband' and the father of their unborn child in his own private Hell.

She walked into the observation area to the muted applause of several of the Fulcrum leadership, including her 'sponsor'.

"Well done, Dr. Roberts. Our faith in you has not been misplaced. I see great things for you and Fulcrum in the future." He gestured towards to figure on the gurney. "What happens to your 'husband', Jill? A quick and very painful divorce, I hope!" he said quietly. He'd been without her special talents too many nights to be at all merciful to the CIA asset.

"When he's finished, a cleanup squad will take him into Nuevo Laredo and dump him off at the police station with a note saying the 'ransom was paid'. They'll contact someone on the US side and they'll take him home. A few days to reacclimate and he'll be back in harness. Given the right triggers, he'll turn into a killing machine starting with his team and ending with Beckman and Graham." They left the room and headed for the airstrip. The facility would be abandoned to the Cartel.

* * *

Lackland AFB  
San Antonio, Texas  
1800 hours

The strike team leader was an Air Commando colonel who would lead the ground forces who were tasked with surrounding the complex that the National Reconnaissance Office had provided satellite imagery of to the teams.

"We land 15 minutes after the Fizzle and take up positions on the roads into and out of the village. The Cartel is located in these villages," he pointed to built-up areas on the big board with a laser pointer, "about 5 klicks away. Anyone attempting to enter the village is to be detained. Anyone attempting to escape is to be identified and detained. Deadly force is authorized. Our spooks will be running the show inside the village compound. They all were UV-flashers and distinctive headgear. The challenge is 'Harbor' and the response is 'Cold'."

* * *

Fulcrum Medical Center  
Winter, Nevada

It would all be over in eight hours or less. It couldn't be hurried. Every bit of information had to be tested, validated and then compiled into its proper position in the main download. It had taken quite a while to download and it would take as long or longer to 'unload' into Chuck's brain.

The main difference was that uploading was done with the survival of the recipient in mind. Jill's program cared only for the data and if the wrong information was extracted, say…a birthday memory or some piece of trivial data, it was tested and discarded.

Her programs were downloading all the files that comprised the Intersect into a special storage unit she'd designed. Chuck was her ticket to the upper ranks of Fulcrum and she'd spent him like loose change. When the download was completed the program would signal the cleanup crew and they'd handle sending him back to his doomed team. A few seconds later the entire file would be transmitted to a secure location and Fulcrum would have a copy of the Intersect!

* * *

Lackland AFB  
San Antonio, TX

Walker watched as Casey listened to the briefing. He would have had a command of his own if he'd stayed active. He envied the Colonel his role and his place in things. Everything clean and clear-cut. No gray, no shadows.

"Makes you wonder sometimes if the choices we've made were the right ones, doesn't it, Major?"

"Yeah, Walker, but not now. We have a man to extract and get back home. Ellie's going to be over the moon with 'EllieJoy'. Hope Chuck's up to it."

"Carina said he had 'scars' on his face and head. From the extraction or something else?"

"We'll know in a few hours, Walker. All our questions will be answered in two hours."

* * *

Central Mexico  
1900 hours

The Air Force B1 bomber approached the Fulcrum village complex from the north and abruptly climbed from its mission altitude of 100 feet to 6,000 feet and released a 'special munitions' package using a 'loft' technique that allowed the package to continue to gain altitude. The bomber dove back down to 100 feet and headed home to Missouri at max speed, undetected.

A parachute opened at 22,000 feet and the special package detonated at 1,000 feet just 250 feet from the optimum. Not that it mattered. The 'Fizzle' was an EMP device that fried everything electronic within 5 miles. No lights. No cars. No computers. No generators. Welcome to Bedrock, boys and girls.

* * *

Fulcrum Medical Facility  
Winter, Nevada

The lights died, the computers died, everything electrical ceased to operate. The deep cover mole made her way to the 'treatment room' and into the special area set aside for intersect operations. Two members of the cleanup team lounged around waiting for their duties to commence and were standing beneath an emergency lamp smoking, not caring at all about recent events.

"That's definitely bad for your health, agents." The doctor smirked as she shot both of them with a silenced pistol and opened the door to where the intersect host was being reprogrammed.

* * *

Winter, Nevada  
Restricted residential apartments

"Walker, this is Casey. I'm at grid 4333, 2nd floor apartment. You have to see this to believe it."

"On my way." She gathered her squad and piled into the hummer and gave the driver the coordinates. It only took a few minutes to make her way up to the 2nd floor and into the apartment clearly labeled 'C & J Bartowski'.

"Partner, check this out." He stepped aside and she got the full treatment of the wedding pictures, the photographs of her and Bryce and Chuck and a woman she didn't recognize in Ellie's apartment in Burbank, pictures of Casey…

"You made rank fast in this organization, Casey. Full bird." She picked up the photograph of Chuck, Casey and the woman…a wedding portrait. She handed it to one of the cleaner teams who was emptying out the apartment for transport. She wiped tears from her eyes and then hardened her heart for what was probably next: his body.

Casey pressed against his earbud and said, "Say again? You have _who_ and she says she's a CIA agent? Wait, repeat that? On our way."

He pulled Walker by the shoulder and turned her toward the door. "The deep cover CIA agent has found Bartowski and is keeping him alive. I don't understand it but she says 'his wife drained his brain into a box'. Let's go."

* * *

APR


	8. Safe from the Enemy?

Sleepingwiththeenemy7

**Apology: The rant was all mine not Jim's. He was already on his way back to work when I posted his stuff. Sorry. He really couldn't care less about the #. He's looking for feedback on quality and eeze of reading. I'll be in PA before I can post again. Cold there.**

**Nik**

Snipers occasionally fired at an exposed agent or at their own who'd been captured and was being taken to the airfield for transport. Walker and Casey rode in their hummer to the 'medical facility' to meet with the deep cover agent and hear her report on the immediate activities of Fulcrum at this location. Formal debriefing would be much more intense and detailed and would take months. This was just a quick peek at the situation, nothing more.

Dr. Elaine Pesich, MD, was thrilled to be back among 'her own kind'. She'd been in deep cover ever since she'd been approached by a 'research foundation' to participate in some exciting clinical trials of drugs in third world countries. The money was good but the intent of the trials was genocide and she found a way to contact the government and offer her services.

She'd been told her father had 'passed away' and she returned to Dallas for the funeral. Her father had died when she was three. She met then Colonel Beckman and started her life as an untrained spy for the CIA/NSA. The CIA finally issued a sanction order when the congressional committee started investigating some of their operations.

The two agents listened to her summary report. Roberts had her arrange for the notes through Fulcrum agents to keep interest alive in Bartowski's fate. She didn't want the government forgetting about the intersect asset. Dr. Pesich knew that Roberts had first planned to 'drain his brain' and send back a husk as a warning but changed her mind as she became emotionally compromised.

The plan to have him become a Fulcrum agent was rejected by the council after he'd been recognized in Laredo. Roberts then fell back on another option to keep him alive: program him to become a Fulcrum-directed assassin and return him to NSA control. Contacts would 'forward' orders for assassination targets and no one would ever suspect the 'nice intersect boy' of anything so foul.

His final targets would be his team and his control – General Beckman and whoever took Graham's place in the CIA.

* * *

Neither agent believed her. They thought it was all BS to make sure she got out in one piece – until she showed them the hundreds of video files that she said would corroborate her story. Every second of Bartowski's time with his 'wife' had been recorded and analyzed and used to create further programs and hypnotherapy sessions. Nothing had been overlooked. It had been the perfect operation until Chuck had been recognized by the DEA in Laredo.

"He's in there", she pointed to a storage closet, "and whatever it was that you did to the power supply down here messed up their plans. The council members watched the final steps and then Roberts took them to the airstrip. I don't know if she left with them or if she made it into town and hooked up with the Cartel."

"It figures they'd stuff the moron in a storage room with all the other useless things." Casey was afraid they'd find his dead body, just like Walker.

Pesich gave an exasperated sigh and pushed the agents out of the way and keyed in a code and the lock cleared and then she took a flashlight and led them through the buckets and mops to the far wall that was 'ajar' since it opened automatically when the power failed.

"In there. Get your medics down here. I don't have anything on this level to sedate him and believe me, when he catches sight of Agent Walker he'll need to be sedated for her sake and his. You'll understand when you review the vids and other records."

Casey and Walker exchanged glances but Casey radioed for the medical extraction team. "We've found Bartowski and the CIA mole. Report to our location grid reference 4017. Use the storage room entrance off the main corridor of the medical facility. Bring a medic."

**Sarah's POV**

'What did she mean when she said when he catches sight of me he'll need to be sedated for his sake and mine? Chuck would never hurt me, never.'

"Dr. Pesich, what exactly has been done to him that makes him dangerous to me, specifically?"

"Agent Walker, _he believes that you went rogue and shot him_ on an operation several years ago and that his wife miscarried trying to rescue him. That's what he's been conditioned to believe. He must want children very much for it to have affected him so deeply. He hates you, Agent Walker. It's the result of his conditioning. He tolerates 'General Casey' only because he wasn't directly involved."

'Surely he can't believe such lies?'

"Doctor, how long did the conditioning take before all this was sprung on him?"

"Daily for the first two months then every other day once he was 'reintroduced' to his wife and his 'life'. It was all very subtle and efficient. Nothing was left to chance. The entire facility was geared around Operation Icarus. Everything from calendars in _every_ room in the facility to news broadcasts and periodicals – everything – was geared towards the deception and it was a great success. He thinks it's 2013 and that he and Jill have been agents since a few years after graduating from Stanford."

'_Oh, yeah, a fucking great success.'_

I can see that Casey's ready to kill her. He's pissed, mostly that Bartowski could possibly believe such…such crap! But knowing Casey, he's equally pissed at this so-called 'doctor' for allowing it.

"You seem to take pride in mind-fucking Bartowski. Just what was your role in the 'great deception'?"

"I monitored his blood pressure, his cerebral pressure, kept him in excellent health and monitored his various metrics remotely via implanted sensors. I rarely saw him and that was just to give him routine physicals to ensure his incisions were healing and to give him his meds prior to going into conditioning."

"When did you decide to call for extraction? What made you suddenly decide to terminate your infiltration mission?"

"The rumor was that when the operation was terminated that all the 'support' people would be cut loose. I knew too much and I was afraid that I'd be killed so I requested extraction."

"So if Bartowski had been killed and the operations here continued, you'd have remained on-mission?"

"Yes, probably. Dr. Roberts and I had talked about further experiments and…"

"You _**bitch!**_"

I can't help myself. She would have watched him die and recorded the 'events'. I hit her across the face with my pistol, just barely in control.

"Walker! Get Chuck out of that Nazi bitch's contraption and get him ready for transport! You're not helping matters any when you pistol whip the deep cover agent. I'm sure Beckman will have issues with her just as we do but for now, deal with Bartowski!"

He's right, of course. I have to help Chuck. I just can't move right now. I want to kill this bitch so bad I can almost feel the recoil of the pistol in my hand and feel the bitch's blood spray over my face. I want her dead so badly for what she's done to him.

I feel a stinging on my cheek. Casey slapped me!

"Get it together, Sarah! He needs your help. Beckman will deal with the quack in her own time. Help him!"

The medics show up and I can only watch as they remove the helmet and sensor leads and begin cleaning him up. He's bearded and his hair is shot through with gray but what I notice most is how pale and thin he is.

"Pesich, has he been ill? Why is he so thin and pale?" Casey watches her while she struggles to compose an answer that won't result in me kicking her ass again.

"The conditioning treatments leave him weak and in the beginning we badly misjudged how violently he'd resist conditioning. It was necessary to weaken him so that the conditioning would take. Dr. Roberts was fattening him up gradually since then but his training burned off any real weight gains. He's completed 'agent training' as well as all firearms and hand-to-hand training."

"Hand-to-hand? Chuck Bartowski?"

"Major Casey, he's considered quite adept at Krav Maga and has been on several infiltration missions where he and Jill entered a facility and planted bugs, bombs and stole critical computer files. He won't carry a fire arm for some reason but uses a trank pistol with great skill."

"Agents, we're ready to transport him to the airfield. Who will accompany him?" The NSA medic interrupts and gives me a chance to think.

I have to stay with him. I don't plan on letting him out of my sight for one instant. "I'm going with him. Has he been sedated? And restrained?"

"Yes, per instructions. You and the major are to accompany him everywhere he goes. We'll take care of the 'doctor'. The General has a debriefing scheduled at the Moab facility. She's less than thrilled about our initial reports as you can well imagine."

"We're not taking him to Moab. No way." I panic. Moab's a detention center – a bunker.

"No, Agent Walker. You, Agent Bartowski, and Major Casey are going to FT Hood, Texas for debriefing and for a full medical on agent Bartowski. _She's_ going to Moab." The NSA medic has been taking Chuck's vitals and making notes. When he glances at Dr. Pesich it's with contempt and thinly-veiled disgust.

Casey's on the phone with the general and he glances at me and smiles. I can hear Beckman's voice practically screaming in rage at what's been done to 'her asset'. I have a feeling Dr. Pesich's homecoming will not be all she expects. I hope they remove her skin, slowly, and then pour brine over what's left. I can't believe she and Ellie are both in the same profession.

Casey closes his phone and grimaces. "Walker, you and Bartowski are out on the next bird. I'll be along once we pull all the files, vids and programs and photograph everything for the General. She's talking to some shrinks about 'deprogramming' him and what it will entail. Sounds painful. I'll meet up with you at the safe house. There are three doctors already there and the General's calling Ellie with some story and she'll be joining up later."

I can't say a word. If I do I'll start to cry. He's had enough pain for a lifetime. It's about time things changed for us.

Day 168  
FT Hood, Texas  
Safe House

The doctors here have done a total workup and are all agreed that he needs to rest and relax before any drastic measures such as 'deprogramming'. He slept while we flew back from Mexico. The doctors are keeping him sedated until Beckman can decide on a proper course of action. I've been talking with the General off and on about it.

"Agent Walker, this revelation that he's been conditioned to hate you for killing his unborn child changes the game plan. I don't think you should be around him until…"

"No! That wasn't the deal. I'm staying. We'll work through it together. Please, I need to be part of this. I can't be a disinterested observer, you know that." I'm pleading my case but I think she's already made up her mind.

"I'll compromise. I want another female agent with you at all times, someone he's familiar with and won't feel threatened by. I'm requesting Carina Hansen to join the team temporarily."

"Carina! Oh, for Christ's sake, General! She's…"

"She's the only reason he's still alive. Live with it. She won't cramp your style but is there to save your ass if he gets the better of you. Take it or leave the safe house, Agent Walker."

"Fine. But she doesn't sleep with him. I mean, in the same bed. It'll just confuse him."

"Put a cap on the jealousy, Sarah. Hansen knows the whole story. She's there to support _you_, not steal your boyfriend away." I can tell she's smirking into the phone. Damn it, Carina, of all people!

I curl up in the chair beside his bed and try to sleep but all I do is twist and turn. I can't get comfortable. He's lying on a double bed in restraints. What harm can he possibly do restrained?

I kick off my sneakers and lie down beside him. I'm not going to sleep. I'm going to just lie here…

Day 169  
Safe House  
FT Hood, TX

"_WALKER! Do you have a death wish?"_

I jerk out of a sound sleep and a beautiful dream. Casey's voice beats the crap out of any stimulant I've ever come across. He's right. I must have a death wish.

"No, John. I was just resting my eyes. OK, I fell asleep. He'd never hurt me, John. You know that."

I hope I'm right. I _believe_ I'm right but I really wish I could say 'I'm right' with the same degree of certainty I would have before he disappeared from my life.

"Wash your face and meet me in the kitchen. The doctors are due here any minute and Hansen's been here for an hour already. Coffee's made. The General wants a video conference in 15 minutes. Try and look like you haven't been curled up around a security risk all night."

His smirk doesn't have to be seen. I know Casey. He's smirking even though all I can see is his back as he leaves.

I look over at Chuck and am shocked to see that he's awake and lying there like he doesn't have a care in the world.

"Chuck, I missed you. I'm so glad we found you. Everything's going to be all right, I promise you. This is a safe house, not a detention facility. Some doctors are coming in to give you a physical and some…" I'm smiling so hard it hurts my face. It's been a long time since I've had a reason to smile. It's all I can do to just keep my distance and not jump his bones.

"So these restraints are some kinky CIA sleep-over toys? What did I miss?"

He doesn't smile. His tone is about as blasé as can be and he doesn't seem at all concerned with his 'situation'.

"The restraints are…because your mental state is in question. I won't lie to you ever again. It's no longer necessary. For lack of a better term, think of me as your 24/7 Guardian Angel. I'll be back as soon as the docs get through. I promise, Chuck."

The look he gives me says volumes about my credibility with him. I make a mental note to work on that when time allows.

"I have to meet with Casey and Carina. I'll bring you back some coffee, OK?"

"Whatever. I'm sure you and General Casey have some catching up to do. Don't let me keep you, Walker. Tell Carina I'm sorry about Laredo but she blew our mission. I didn't even know she smoked."

His use of my last name and Carina's first with an apology really bring home how serious the situation is. Maybe Beckman was right. It's probably not a good idea for me to be here right now but I made a promise and I'll keep it.

I turn to leave the bedroom when he says, "Walker, I don't drink coffee but water would be nice."

"Sure thing. I – I forgot about – wait a minute, you love coffee!"

"Not any more. Jill says it increases my blood pressure and Casey had the docs put it on the no-no list. I'd kill for a cup but then it would probably kill me…on 2nd thought, bring me a cup. Large."

I just nod my head and leave. His tone of voice says what he won't. He thinks he's a prisoner or worse.

We need a plan to get him back. _I _need a plan.

* * *

Day 166 (continued)


	9. Running from the Enemy

Sleepingwiththeenemy8

* * *

**Still Sarah's POV**

Carina whoops a gleeful greeting and hugs me. I have no idea why she's so damned happy but she is.

"Sarah, isn't it great that he's alive and safe? Y'know I almost shot him in Laredo but then I saw his face in the dim light and I just…froze. Good thing for him, right?"

"He's awake if you want to rehash old times. He said he was 'sorry about Laredo' and that he didn't know you smoked. I guess that bad habit saved your life, Carina."

"He's awake? I'll be right back. Mmm, is he still in restraints?" She grinned and did her best hooker imitation as she walked out of the kitchen. A minute later I heard her laughter. Some things never change.

"He's had a hard time of it, Sarah. You need to lower your expectations a bit. I've got some vids for us to review but I don't want Carina around. She'll just ride you unmercifully and that won't help anyone now, will it?"

If he's looking for an answer or some witty response, I disappoint him and walk over to the coffee pot and pour a cup for me and one for Chuck.

"Coffee's a no-no for our boy, Sarah, at least until the docs finish their evaluation. I'll drink it. Been up since 5am with the General and then Carina."

"What? No handcuffs this time?" I'm in a bitchy mood and apologize for taking it out on my partner.

"Sorry. That was a shitty thing to say. When's Ellie coming?" I know he's with Ellie and I couldn't be happier. I wonder how Chuck will handle it?

"Not sure. She knows he's alive and that's enough for right now. I just wonder how he's going to handle me in her life instead of Devon. May be one change too many for him to handle. What do you think, Sarah?"

"I think that as long as you two are happy together then that's all that counts. So, how does it feel to be back in harness again, Major Casey?"

"Not sure how I feel about it if you want the truth. I was tempted to let you shoot Dr. Pesich and that's not at all like 'the me' when I was an agent. I don't think my 'feelings' are a match for the job any more. Once Chuck's out of the woods, I'm back on the retired list. How about you? Any career changes planned?"

"If we can get him straightened out, yeah, I have a major career change. I'm going to reassign myself as Mrs. Sarah Bartowski and the CIA can kiss my ethnic ass."

"And if we can't 'straighten' him out?"

"Then I'll be satisfied with being his Guardian Angel. Being with him is more important than anything else, John. I used to live for the job but now I'm going to live for Chuck."

"It's about time! Ellie and I will be behind you, 100%!"

* * *

**Meanwhile, in Chuck's 'quarters'**

"Well, well, look what we have here! You can't run from me now, Mr. Bartowski!" She shoots him a hot look and then breaks out in unrestrained laughter. It takes her less than a second to pounce on him and hug him.

"I was so tore up when Sarah called and said you'd been killed, Chuck. I've never, ever heard her cry so hard for anyone, ever! You need to be nice to her, Chuck. She's having such a hard time dealing with all this. Promise me that you'll at least _try_ and be civil to her? Please? You know how she feels about you. She was so torn up that she couldn't function and they sent her to the Farm as an instructor – the Great Sarah Walker teaching idiots how to behave. She loved you more than anything in the world, even the damned job, Chuck!"

"Carina, what the hell are you talking about? She disappeared on a mission in Portland that we never should have been on except that she pushed and pushed and got Casey to task us. Bryce got killed and I got shot in the head and lost 5 wonderful years of memories with my wife."

He didn't mention the miscarriage. It would have been 'unprofessional' to drag personal issues into the conversation.

"Five years? Chuck, what the hell is the date?"

"I'm not sure. I think it's August 18th, why?"

"August 18th of what year, Chuckles?" She used her pet name for him to lessen his anxiety and suspicion both of which were suddenly oozing out of him.

"Jesus, Carina, you been sampling the evidence or something? It's 2013, of course."

"Chuck, it's…not. Answer a simple question for me. When did we meet and how?"

"I – I – I don't…I can't…Oh, God, Jill…Jill…help me, Jill!" He started mumbling and Carina lay beside him and held his head between her hands and started talking quietly, just like she used to talk to the horses brought in from the open range on her father's horse ranch in Montana.

"Chuck, baby, it's OK. Everything is OK. I know you're scared and confused but we're your friends. We love you and care about you. None of us would ever hurt you, Chuck. Sarah loves you with all her heart and Chuck," she had to keep his attention, "listen to my voice…I love you, Chuck, just not like Sar – Chuck? Chuck? What's wrong?"

She jumped from the bed and called for Casey and Sarah who came running.

"He was panicked over the date and I asked him where and when we first met and he started calling for 'Jill' and I talked quietly to him and calmed him down like I used to do with broncs on the ranch but when I told him how we all loved him and would never hurt him, he went…away. It's like he's in some kind of trance or something."

"Or something. Casey, pull up the vids of the conditioning sessions. I think we've found a trigger."

* * *

It was 1AM and they were again on a conference call with the General, only this time they had something concrete and beneficial to report.

"Allow me to recap, agents. Mr. Bartowski is currently lying in another room awaiting some kind of instruction or action? And it was all prompted by a phrase commonly used between lovers? Incredible. Agent Hansen, my congratulations. You've saved us considerable time in dealing with that Bitch's programming. I take it that you've all seen the video records of the conditioning sessions and…"

"Yes, General, we've watched a few days' worth from before he was 'awakened' about day 60 or so and introduced into his new existence. Most of it was…sexual in nature but the earlier vids and several of those following minor 'leaks' of memory on Chuck's part gave us a real insight into what was done to him."

"General, he has these telemetry sensors throughout his body. Given the situation, perhaps Dr. Pesich could give us some information regarding range and necessity? We don't want Fulcrum coming round to take him again." Sarah wanted those damned things out of her man immediately.

"Dr. Pesich was killed by poison within 4 hours of arriving at Moab. You'll have to review all the files for your answers. The doctors can advise you but I agree, we certainly don't want Fulcrum trying to take him back."

"General, how in the world could a Fulcrum operative get into Moab and out again? Maybe this 'safe house' isn't so safe after all?"

"You're surrounded by 14,000 armed soldiers, Agent Hansen. I hardly think you're at risk of…"

The power died and the phone and video connection were cut and flash bangs were thrown through the windows. Armed commandos rushed into the house shooting the agents and on-call physician with trank darts.

* * *

FT Hood, Texas  
Safe House  
1:15AM

Chuck stepped over the bodies of the three commandos and walked into the kitchen and drank a glass of water from the tap. He took in the scene and reached decisions based on his instincts and conditioning.

He picked up Carina and gently placed her on the couch, straightening her clothing and lightly brushing her lips with his. He left the General where he was, draped across the kitchen counter. He found one of his 'doctors' lying on the floor of a bedroom and left him there.

He picked up the blonde agent, threw her over his shoulder and left the safe house by the rear door. He stayed in the shadows until he reached the parked and idling van. Chuck dropped the blonde and jerked open the door and dragged the commando out and then broke his neck.

He pushed Walker into the van's front passenger seat and went back to the not-so-safe house and picked up a bag of her clothes and some articles from the kitchen, the agents and dead commandos and 'his' room and returned to the van.

Chuck was getting into the van when some part of his conditioning kicked in. Cursing a blue streak and glancing at Jill's watch, he drove to the front of the house and brought out the General and Carina Hansen and as much of their stuff as possible.

He needed to keep his team intact. How could he have forgotten so simple a fact?

* * *

Motel 6  
Sonora, Texas  
5:00AM

He paid cash for the two rooms and explained that 'the A/C is busted in the van so we drive at night' and the clerk nodded sagely. It frequently got above 100F in August and he knew how hot the highway got during the day.

Chuck picked Sarah up like a sleeping baby and laid her on one of the two double beds and went out and brought in their 'luggage' and several utility bags he'd found in the back of the van. He took inventory and smiled. They had more than enough cash and he had several handguns, 3 M16A2s, trank pistols and several changes of clothing for Sarah and Carina.

He laid Casey on one bed and Carina on the other and left them a note and the room key to the other room, unlocking the connecting door between the rooms.

Back in his own room, he stripped Walker and found her stash of throwing knives and put them under the pillow on her bed. He smelled himself and almost gagged. Being tranked and conditioned and then dragged around Mexico and central Texas required more than his deodorant could handle.

He didn't know how long she'd be out and he didn't want to walk out of the bathroom and face an extraction team. He hadn't thought about Casey and Hansen and again cursed himself for not thinking ahead.

He simply took her with him and would bathe her as well. It sounded simple except that a tranked adult tended to be totally jointless and she kept slipping down in the tub. Chuck just grimaced and slipped in behind her and soaped first her front and then was trying to turn her over so that she was lying facing him to do her back when she woke up.

If he expected screaming, punching and an escape attempt he was disappointed. All she did was sigh and lean back against him and place both his hands over her breasts and whisper "Wash, please."

Unlike porn stars and those busty women in romance novels, Sarah was never much on 'nipple stimulation' finding more than a brief acknowledgement of their existence annoying but this was different. He wasn't being overtly sexual, just thorough, and each time the pad of his finger and thumb brushed over her, she'd twitch and sigh and sort of wiggle her butt against him.

"Agent Walker, please don't do that. It's very distracting." The way he whispered in her ear was distracting and it seemed like the brush of his lips against her ear went right to her center.

Jill's conditioning had done nothing to thwart Nature and between touching her and her wiggling, he soon sported a raging erection, the length of which lay against the folds of her pussy. She wiggled back and forth and was delighted with his ragged breath in her ear. If she just slipped down on his lap a bit she could maneuver him into her and then they'd finally consummate their feelings physically.

"Stop it! Sit still. Now that you're fully awake, there are some things we need to discuss and rules to be set and I don't need to be in the tub with you to keep you from drowning." He stood up and blushed as he almost slapped her in the cheek with 'something' when he twisted to get out of the tub.

He wrapped a towel around his waist and went in to the sleeping area and stripped off the blanket and sheets off the one double bed and quickly figured out how the restraints attached. Chuck was sitting on the edge of the bed in boxers when Sarah came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel.

"What's this? You're going to put me in restraints? I give you my word I won't leave you or try and contact Casey." Sarah hated to be restrained in any way. It was one of the reasons she wasn't considered a 'cuddler'.

"No, Agent Walker, they're for me. We don't know what might trigger a dangerous response and until we do, this seems the best bet for both of us to get some sleep. It's the way it has to be. If you want to contact the General or Carina Hansen, use the connecting door. I unlocked it from their side when I put them to bed."

"Why didn't we stay at the safe house, Chuck? We could have stayed together and moved on to the next safe area. Beckman's going to have a cow when she can't contact your team."

He snorted and turned away from her when she dropped the towel and started going through her bag for sleepwear. "Safe house my ass…"

"OK, so it wasn't all that safe but Beckman's going to think…"

"I remember a 'safe' doctor from Fulcrum's list and we're going there to have these damned telemetry sensors removed. You're along for security. If she tries anything, I expect you guys to take the appropriate action. Now, please put me in restraint. I set a wake-up call for 4pm. I need clothes and I'm sure you and the others have needs. We'll get what we need and be on the road by dark."

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

"Chuck, I don't like surprises, you know that. I like my life nice and predictable. And baby, my life is going to be so predictable once we get all this crap behind us."

"Yeah, you can go back to whomever you're banging for the greater good and I'll just fade away. No harm, no foul."

She slapped him as hard as she'd ever slapped anyone. She wasn't a 'slapper' and she wondered why she hadn't just floored him with a roundhouse kick to the head or something.

'_It's because you had a human reaction, not an agent one. And you don't want to hurt him. He's been hurt enough.'_

"I'm sorry I slapped you, Chuck, but that was so mean and unfair. I've been sent up to the Farm as an instructor. They don't trust me emotionally anymore. That's where I was when I got the damned note and started all this."

"What's 'all this', Agent Walker?"

"Damn it, quit calling me 'Agent Walker'. You used to call me Sarah and that's the only name I'll answer to from now on. 'All this' is the rescue of an asset kidnapped by Fulcrum. We thought you were dead, Chuck, assassinated by Fulcrum but they took you from me instead. We got to you as quickly as we could, baby, but we were always one step behind them until Laredo."

"Yeah, Carina Hansen saves the day. I'll bet she loves the attention." He sat on the bed and pointed to the restraints.

"I can't do it myself. You'll have to do it. Make sure the waist is fairly tight – and the ankles also. The wrist straps are already set right. Once the waist strap is secured, you'll be safe until you release me."

"Um, what about the bathroom? Do you need…"

"Nope. Planned ahead. I won't bite you, Agent Walker. The restraints, please. It's how it has to be."

"Tell me if they're too tight or uncomfortable. I don't ever want me to be the cause of any pain. You've had enough pain. No more, Chuck."

"They have to be tight, I don't want to risk hurting anyone. I killed those men back at Beckman's safe house and I don't feel a thing. She's programmed me to be an unfeeling monster. All those people…"

"Shhh. You protected your teammates. You did what was necessary. You're still Chuck Bartowski, nerd extraordinaire and the man I want to grow old with. I'll prove it to you somehow. You're still my Chuck and I'm still your Sarah. Nothing will ever change that."

She took the waist belt and cinched it tight and attached it to the main strap and then put the leather cuffs on each of his wrists and secured them to the waist strap. She straddled him and tightened them until he nodded and then she slid down his legs and repeated the process with each ankle.

"OK. Too tight?"

"No. Just throw the sheet over me and then get some sleep. We have a lot to do tomorrow, er, today."

"Are you cold, baby?"

"Um, no, just…modest, I guess."

Sarah's mind played dirty tricks on her. She flashed on the video of Chuck fucking the whore Roberts and from the sounds she was making and the look on her face, she wasn't faking her pleasure or ultimate satisfaction. Chuck had shown little need for modesty then.

_That's because he thought he was with his wife, dim bulb._

She picked the sheet off the floor and draped it over him and then slipped in bed beside him and curled up against him.

"Chuck, I know the trigger phrase. The thing is, Chuck Bartowski, I really L-O-V-E you and I'm never going to let them take you from me, not ever. If Fulcrum comes, we'll kill them. If the Agency tries to take you, we'll run, baby."

She waited a few heartbeats and then asked the question that had been nagging at her since his recovery.

"Chuck, do you remember anything about us? I mean, about before you were taken?"

"No, only what you and Carina have told me. I'm sorry. I wish I could tell you something different since it's so important to you but I won't lie to you. All I remember is what I've been told and most of that…Ok, almost _all_ of it was pounded into me through the conditioning. I'm sorry."

"Then we'll just have to make new memories together."

* * *

Sometime during the 'night' she'd migrated from beside him to almost on top of him. The A/C unit kept the room fairly cool and she'd sought out his body warmth like a lizard on a rock in the sun.

"Um, Agent Walker…ah, Sarah, wake up. We need to get moving. And you seem to have…Sarah, you're…you're naked!"

"Got hot during the night, er, day. Now I'm cold so I sought out my big warm teddy bear. God, how I dreamed of waking up like this so many times…" She could hear Carina muttering as she tried to wake up. She didn't have much time to enjoy this before they were invaded.

She slithered up his torso leaving a trail of wet kisses on his sweaty body until she reached his mouth and then she plundered it with a hot and wet kiss, forcing her tongue into his mouth. She sensed rather than felt him grow erect against her and she redoubled the intensity of her attack.

"Chuck, baby, I want you so bad it's killing me. Tonight, tonight, baby, just you and me and no damned restraints…unless you're into kinky stuff?" She looked at him and smiled. She thought he wanted this, too. His smile was so dear that she felt her heart melt in her chest.

Sarah slid her hands down and pulled on his boxers but then the connecting door flew open and Carina flounced in announcing she was going to take a shower but stopped when she saw what she was interrupting.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry…shit…sorry, Chuck. I'm going to use the shower. Need a cold one now. Sorry…sorry."

Chuck started to laugh but Sarah looked close to tears.

"Hey, it was probably a good thing she interrupted us. We're just not ready for this, Sarah, if you'll just admit the truth."

"I'm going to kill her and then I'm going to kill you but only after I have my fill of you. I've waited 18 months and when we finally get around to…oh, shit."

"Um, I really got to use the can, Sarah."


	10. Hiding from the Enemy

Sleepingwiththeenemy9

* * *

**Motel 6  
Sonora, TX  
4PM**

While Chuck and Carina were otherwise occupied, Sarah walked through the connecting door to talk to Casey who was on the phone with Ellie.

"He's fine, Ellie. He's aware and sharp as ever. He just had his memories scrambled a bit. Right now, Ellie, it's not safe for you to be with us. We're constantly on the move and I don't know where we'll be tomorrow so, no, you can't join up with us."

There is a long pause and then Casey's face cracks open and blood drips down onto the carpet. He's smiling! OK, so there's no blood but still…he's smiling!

"Yeah, me too. I'll be in touch." He closes his phone and turns to me and says, "What? I can't smile when I talk with her? Get a grip, Walker. You have the same dumb look on your face every time you talk to the moron."

"I know, John. I just never expected to see the same look on _your _face, that's all. Carina's in the shower and Chuck's getting dressed. Just so you know, he spent the night in restraints, at his demand, and this morning your roommate interrupted a rape in progress, damn her!"

"I thought you said he was in restraints! Did he hurt you, Sarah? I'll kill him…"

She giggled and replied, "He was in restraints and I was the attacker. Honestly, if Carina had been 5 minutes later, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"How did Chuck react? You know it's way too soon…"

"Yep. That's not exactly what he said but it's what he meant. I'm a little ashamed of myself for attacking him like that but having him back after so long is so…"

"We need to call Beckman and have her start looking for those guys who tranked us. I can't believe…"

"She'll find them dead in Chuck's room and one other dead out in the road beside where the van was parked. Apparently Chuck's training and conditioning included 'team loyalty', thank God."

"Beckman's got to be tearing her hair out over security breaches. How did they find us, anyway?"

"He thinks the telemetry sensors under his skin are being used to track him so we're heading for a 'safe' Fulcrum doctor to have them removed. He wants us there to make sure there's nothing else done to him."

"So where is this doctor?"

"It's a surprise."

"I don't like surprises in operations, Walker."

"Either do I but he won't say anything else."

* * *

Carina pulled back the shower curtain and stepped out of the tub into a towel held by Chuck. She let out a startled 'Eeek' but quickly settled into his warm embrace as he dried her back. He put his arms around her, effectively trapping her and she felt a moment of panic until he started talking softly into her hair.

"Agent Hansen, you're the only one here who doesn't seem to have a personal agenda so I want you to come with me. I'm going to leave the two agents here but I need someone I can rely on to have my back. Can I trust you, Carina? If you feel uncomfortable with possible treason, I'll understand but I feel I can trust you."

He felt an attraction to her since she'd handled his panic attack so well. He felt he could trust her and hoped he was right otherwise he'd end up dead.

She whispered back. "Yeah, but I do have an agenda, Chuck. I always have. I want what Sarah has or wants, if only for a little while. It's how we are, y'know? Very competitive."

"I can live with that if you can handle the disappointment. Now, I'm going to really piss off General Casey and trank him and Walker both. I'll pop you, too, if you'd rather stay behind. I'm only 6 hours from Marfa and I think I can handle the drive."

"I've got your back. Just don't trank Casey in the ass, Chuck. Or Sarah, either. These Fulcrum darts really leave marks, see?" She dropped her towel and pointed to her left breast, and pouted. "It still hurts, Chuck. And it's a little swollen, feel?"

Chuck turned twenty shades of red and finally just mumbled something.

"So go without a bra. Big deal. Go get dressed while I take care of our two comrades. Man, the General is really going to be so pissed about this."

"Yeah. You better sleep face down for a while because Sarah's going to want to hurt you for tranking and leaving her."

_'Tough. She's not expendable and neither is General Casey. You, Agent Hansen, are. Sorry, babe, but it's the hand we were dealt. They're not disposable like we are. They both have to survive this.'_

"Go, get dressed and get ready. I'll walk in, pop them, and then we'll be out of here. I paid for two nights. I'm sure they'll be alright."

"Chuck, are you sure you won't take them along? We might need the extra firepower in…Marfa? Where the hell is _Marfa_?"

"About five or six hours' drive from here. Carina, do nothing to alarm them, please? It's going to be hard enough for me to hurt them without having to see the looks on their faces."

She stepped even closer to him until they were skin on skin, her tight nipples flush against his chest, and whispered, "Chuck, if you ever worry about all this changing you, don't. You're still the finest man I've ever met. Now, kiss me hard and long because Sarah's about to bust in here and you want her mad at _me_ not you."

With surprising strength and agility, she spun him around until her back was against the vanity, hopped up on it and wrapped her legs around him and pulled him close and then kissed him, forcing her tongue between his lips and sucking on his.

Sarah Walker picked that exact moment to walk into the bathroom looking for her…looking for her asset.

"Jesus Christ, Carina! He's hardly aware of what's going on and you're trying to rape him, for God's sake? Unwrap your legs and get the hell out of here. We're still on mission. Casey's going to conference with Beckman so you need to cover your paycheck with panties or a thong while I make sure you haven't broken him."

Carina unwound herself from Chuck and strolled out the door, chuckling. '_Cover my paycheck…indeed. And I suppose what I interrupted was not a rape-in-progress. Damned CIA hypocrite.'_

Chuck put a glazed look on his face and Sarah immediately wondered if he was in one of his 'trances'. "Chuck, what did she do to you? Did she say the trigger? Chuck, what's wrong? Do you need a doctor?"

"No, Agent Walker. I'm fine. I received my instructions and will act on them. Thank you for your concern but Dr. Pesich is busy with other patients. I'm fine now. I know my purpose."

He wanted her as confused as possible. It would make following him difficult and keep her and the General safe.

"What the hell did she do to you?"

"Nothing, Agent Walker. Nothing at all. Go back to the general and call his superiors for instructions, please. There is little time remaining."

"What? What the hell did she do to you? Last night you agreed to call me Sarah and we shared some moments but now…what did that damned skank do to you, baby?"

"You're wasting time, Agent. We don't have a lot of time. Go talk to the General. He's aware of our new mission."

He would have smiled except that it would have ruined the moment. Her face was torn between confusion and concern and a deep desire to kill Carina.

"I need to get dressed and leave. Hurry, please?"

She turned on her heel and left him standing in the bathroom. He could hear her screaming "Carina, I'm going to kill you, you DEA slut! What have you done…"

* * *

He quickly dressed and grinned when Carina walked in blowing on the tip of her finger as if it was a gun. "They're both out for the count. Nice move. She never saw it coming, Chuck. I'll just have to lay low for a few months until she gets over being tranked. Let's move."

He took two pistols and some cash out of his bag and started into the other motel room but Carina intercepted him.

"You finish packing. I'll leave the guns and money on the table where they'll see them. I didn't think about arming them but it's probably necessary. I'll be back in a sec, sweetie."

Carina didn't want him to see the tableau she'd created with a nearly-naked Walker lying on top of a boxer-clad Casey, their faces in each other's crotches. She was only sorry she wouldn't be here to see the grand awakening. If anyone asked her, 'the Devil made me do it'. _Damned CIA hypocrite._

Still grinning, she left a note with the pistols and cash telling them that they were going to see a 'safe Fulcrum doctor' in Marfa and they could catch up with them there if they could find a ride but that she'd keep him safe if it was the last thing she ever did.

* * *

**Day 169  
9PM**

They spent valuable time at Wal-mart in Sonora but it couldn't be helped. Chuck needed clothes and Carina always seemed to need beauty products and other things.

"Carina, you're one of the most beautiful women I've ever met. You don't need all this crap. Just be yourself and you'll still be beating the guys off with a stick."

"I'm 30 and I can hear the clock ticking. I need this like…like armor. I put it on and no one can see the real me. Understand? I'm just…insecure about getting old, Chuck."

He put an arm around her and led her away from the Oil of Olay rack where she'd spent almost $100 on 'wrinkle' stuff. "That's dumb, Carina. You probably are one of those women who just get better looking with age. How do you compare yourself now with say, a picture from 5 years ago?"

"That's not fair, Chuck. You always say the sweetest things and I can't ever get or stay mad at you. Let's get out of here and maybe grab some burgers for the trip. You're smart to travel at night. Cooler and no one can easily ID the van."

* * *

**Three hours later  
US 10 outside FT. Stockton, TX**

"Carina, why don't you hop in the back and catch some zee's? The radio's busted and I know you're trying not to talk my ear off but you're bored."

"Some bodyguard I'd be if I let my main man take the load while I slept. I'm good to go but a little conversation would go a long way. So, if it's not too damned personal or a state secret, just how the hell did you end up married and thinking it's 2013?"

"I don't know. I know it's all a colossal lie but Carina, it was so _real_. Jill and I dated through college and we were engaged and then we ended up in Winter, Nevada and I had a hole in my head that all my memories leaked out of. Everything was so real. We had pictures of us and Sarah and Bryce, wedding pictures, vacation pictures, even pictures of Devon and Ellie and Jill and I."

"So this Jill's the one who did the programming and dreamed up all this stuff to snatch you from Burbank?" She wanted to keep the conversation of safe topics, like the people he knew and not the process.

"Yep, so it seems. She loved me, Carina. She had to have loved me to do some of the things she did. No one is that great an actress. And me? I loved her even though something felt off. It broke my heart when she broke down after telling me how we lost the baby on the Portland mission. She had to be sedated because she'd become hysterical."

"Chuck, you know you and Sarah had a thing going in Burbank. It was real for her even if she couldn't admit it. She's an agent, Chuck, and she'd have been transferred to another planet if Beckman thought her prized asset was being guarded by a compromised agent."

"I don't remember Burbank, or Sarah being 'compromised'. She was always with Bryce and then…and then she shot me and Jill lost our baby pulling me to safety. Everyone thought I was brain dead but not her. She stayed with me and fought to keep me safe until one day I woke up."

"Chuck, that's what she told you. She also told you that you'd lost 5 years' of memories but you've only been missing for 6 months. Believe me, Chuck, she lied. It's 2008 and you were with Sarah at her apartment and had a big fight and you stormed out of there and then they blew up your Nerd Herder and everyone thought you were dead. It's the truth, Chuck. You knew me from before and that's why you freaked out in Laredo."

Chuck exited the interstate and pulled into a truck stop to get gas and to allow Carina to use the restroom.

"We shouldn't be apart, Chuck. It's not safe. You never know when one of those extraction squads from Fulcrum will make an appearance."

"I'm not going into the ladies restroom with you, Carina, and you're not using the guys' side either. We'll take turns and then we'll get something to eat. We won't be waking up the good doctor at 3AM so we'll just hang out in the parking lot until she shows."

"OK. So, this doctor, is she hot?" She figured Walker would want a full report.

"Don't know. Never met her."

"So how will we know it's her?"

"There are only 3 clinics in Marfa so we'll use some high tech spy techniques I learned in Winter."

"Whoa! You mean some super secret Fulcrum shit? Cool!"

"Yep. The Real Yellow Pages."

Carina was quiet for a moment and then started to giggle. "OK, I fell for that one but I suppose I deserved it for what I did to Casey and Sarah."

She hopped out of the van and practically sprinted for the restaurant and ladies room.

'_Carina, what the hell have you done this time?'_ He shook his head and finished filling the tank and walked into the cashier area and paid for the gas. Carina came out of the ladies room with a look of relief on her face and Chuck used the men's room.

Chuck picked up some burgers and fries to go and they walked out to the van. A police car was parked in the next bay and the officer was filling up the cruiser. Carina walked over, bold as brass, and asked how far it was to Marfa.

"It's about another two, two and half hours. Going down to check out the lights?" He was more interested in the fact that Carina was braless than anything else at the moment.

"Lights? No. My husband has a doctor's appointment and we drove down from Dallas and had A/C problems so we're driving at night to avoid the heat."

"Smart man. You should check out the lights, though. Maybe the two of you will be able to see the sparks and figure out what they are. Well, I'm out of here. Be careful. Drive safe."

She waved and he pulled out and she walked back to Chuck who was silently fuming at her brazenness.

"Before you lose your mind, dear Charles, it's two and half hours to Marfa, he was more interested in trying to catch a nipple slip than the van, and I want to see the Marfa Lights. OK?"

"If we're lucky and we're not dead, yeah, I think you deserve a treat for your behavior. Took his mind off the government plates and he probably won't even remember the color of the van. Cool. But don't flash anyone again, Carina. You're not trash."

He got in the van and she got in the other side and leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I keep forgetting what a damned prude and gentleman you are, Chuck. Won't happen again."

* * *

**Public Phone Booth  
Marfa, TX  
4AM**

Chuck stood in the weak light of the overhead fluorescent bulb and opened the small phone directory. There were only 2,100 people in the entire country and he figured that Julia Morgan wouldn't be too hard to find. He found 'J. Morgan' but no 'Julia Morgan, MD' and the address given was on FM 167 just outside of town. He tore the entire directory off its chain and stomped back to the van.

"Well, there's no 'Julia Morgan, MD' but I did find a 'J. Morgan' who lives out in the sticks. Let's go back to that diner we passed and grab some breakfast and maybe some intel on the elusive Dr. Morgan."

"Oh my, Chuck. You just destroyed public property. You're in trouble now…" She said it in a sing-song voice and Chuck had to laugh. If only she knew how much trouble they were really in…

* * *

**Motel 6  
Sonora, TX  
4AM**

Casey woke first and tried to figure out how Ellie had found them. He'd never have suspected that prim Eleanor Bartowski, MD had such varied sexual tastes when he first met her. She was constantly battering at his conservative mores and he gave in every time, much to his own satisfaction and delight.

He nibbled the inside of her thigh and was rewarded with a sleepy giggle somewhere south of his head.

"Mmm, Chuck, that feels so good, baby…"

Casey froze. He knew that voice and it wasn't Ellie's. He'd been tranked by that damned DEA whore Hansen and she'd set up this compromising position as revenge for his constant rejections of her sexual advances. Once he'd been terrified of her but now Ellie was in his life and he didn't cheat.

He flipped Sarah over onto her side and extracted himself with as much dignity as possible ignoring her throaty groan as she also regained her wits.

"Chuck, what the hell did you do to me?" OK, so maybe she hadn't regained all her wits.

"Walker, Hansen tranked us and she and the moron are on their way to Marfa to meet with some 'safe' Fulcrum doctor and get the sensors removed. The idiot should have hung around and we'd have gotten a decent and reliable doctor to take them out in a safe environment. What the hell is he thinking?"

"Oh, my head aches. He's thinking that a 'safe house' wasn't and he figures he's better off on his own. Why didn't he take me? Why did he take Carina and – and – has she done something to him? You should have seen her in the bathroom, John. She was practically raping him!"

"Spare me the jealousy, Walker. We need to rent a car and get on the road. They've got a good head start on us. They're probably already there, for God's sake."

"Well, Hansen's note says that they're looking for a Dr. Julia Morgan and there can't be that many doctors in some little Texas wide spot in the road. We'll find them and when we do, I want some 'alone time' with Hansen."

"You got it. Let's get dressed and get on the road. There's an Enterprise rental agency in town and they'll deliver a car to us. We'll have to use your government credit card. I don't have one yet."

"Casey, why would he take Carina and not me? You don't think she did something to him with a trigger, do you? She can't be Fulcrum. Why leave me behind?"

"Won't know that until I have some 'alone time' with the moron. Let's move it, Sarah. You check out their room for clues and I'll advise Beckman of our intentions."

"Casey, my cell is missing. Do you have yours?"

"Crap, it's gone, too. OK, we'll have to find a public phone and then arrange for cells. Why take our cell phones?"

"To keep us from calling in the cavalry, probably. Casey, we need to think like Chuck. He takes our cells but leaves us weapons and our ID's and money. He tells us where he's going but leaves us behind. Why?"

"He wants us to be able to protect ourselves if Fulcrum comes calling and he wants us to follow him 'at a distance' and be ready to swoop in and save him, why else?"

"That's not how Chuck thinks. Yeah, our weapons are protection but why take our cell phones? What good could Beckman do given the situation? She'd probably issue a sanc…oh, shit. She'd issue a sanction figuring he'd reverted. He's protecting _us_ and he's taken Carina along because she's DEA and immune from Beckman's wrath."

"Fine. Let's get a car and get on the road. We can grab some food and eat on the way. Let's pick up some Go-Phones and at least be able to contact each other if we get separated."

* * *

Residence/Office/Clinic  
Morgan's Veterinary Clinic  
FM 167 Marfa, TX  
6:45AM

"Chuck, I thought you said she was a _doctor_?" She stared at the sign that announced the Vet Clinic hours and the proprietor, Dr. Julie Morgan, DVM. Apparently she specialized in horses and cows.

"A vet _is_ a doctor. I assumed she was an MD just like you did. Well, I suppose she can slice these sensors out of me just as easily as a human doctor."

"Chuck, we should have gone back to Hood. They have real doctors there and you'd have been safe…" Chuck interrupted her with a derisive snort.

"Safe? Sweet Jesus, Hansen, are you dim? Those were US Army soldiers who tried to take me from the safe house, not Fulcrum agents. They were independent contractors and there's no telling just how many more 'cells' are lurking at FT Hood. Nope. Safe is predictable and we need to be anything but predictable if we're going to make it out alive."

Just then a young woman in jeans and a sweat shirt with her brunette hair pulled into a ponytail walked out of the ranch-style residence and crossed over the dusty parking lot to the clinic office. She took in the van but dismissed it. _Probably someone out looking for the Lights and just had too much to drink and were sleeping it off._

"Let's go, Carina. Listen, follow my lead. You don't know the secret passwords or the secret handshake or anything so just stay behind me, OK?" He was ragging her and she was too involved to get it. _Passwords and handshakes...yeah, right, sure._

She'd been on enough undercover missions to recognize that she was at a disadvantage and nodded. She'd have his back.

Chuck pulled out his 9mm and screwed on a silencer and then nodded to Carina. _Showtime._

They walked over to the clinic door and opened it and walked inside. The vet was leaning over a desk checking on some paperwork and glanced up at the sound of the opening door and saw Chuck and began to cry and ran to him, hugging him and sobbing out his name.

"Hello, Jules. Long time no see. I don't look that bad, do I?"


	11. Reflections of the Enemy

A/N: I wrote most of this when I was in Ireland in the hospital and although it's weird, me likee. Must have been the drugs but it makes sense it you keep your sense of humor and purpose. Subtle nuances escape the average mind. Bestatt you've been warned. Meh to you too.

Big chapter because I screwed you over by getting sick. mea culpa

APR

* * *

Sleepingwiththeenemy10

Motel 6  
Sonora, TX

General Beckman was not pleased with developments in Texas. First her safe house had been invaded and the recovered asset almost taken by Fulcrum agents. Then those same agents had been killed, supposedly by the asset. Then the DEA agent trips to the program or conditioning trigger. And finally, the DEA agent either flips to Fulcrum or is so damned compromised that she and the asset disappear for parts unknown. No, wait, Marfa-by-God, Texas.

"Major Casey, I want you and Agent Walker to find Bartowski and bring him in under arrest. I don't care if you bring in Hansen dead or alive because her career is over and she might as well be dead. You have 48 hours to recover the asset or I'll be forced to issue a sanction Combine-wide. Is that understood?"

Both agents nodded. What choice did they have? None. Bartowski had nicely screwed the pooch and was now considered a loose cannon and if they didn't recover him, the Combine would find him and kill him.

"Casey, I'm driving. You drive like an old lady and we have to cover the miles to Marfa in less time that we have. I can't believe Beckman. We just got him back and she wants him dead."

"Walker, you're not thinking like she does. He was hers. She lost him. We found him. We lost him. No one else can have him. Can he still flash after all this? Probably not. That's why she's being so ruthless. He's valuable to them now, not her. He's just a broken cog in the machine."

'_He's not a cog in any machine and once I get him back, I'll fix him and then…and then…I'll marry. To hell with Beckman. I'm entitled to some happiness and he's all I need.'_

* * *

Morgan's Veterinary Clinic  
Marfa, TX  
7:30AM

Jules had insisted on cooking them a huge breakfast. She knew this wasn't a social call and she needed time to think and to make plans.

While Jules bustled about the kitchen, Carina whispered frantically to Chuck. "Jesus, she's Jill's twin sister? Why the hell are we here? You shot me some crap about subdermal sensors, didn't you? You just wanted to get back to Fulcrum. You fucking traitor!"

If Chuck ever doubted Carina's loyalty to her country, she proved it when she pulled out her pistol and shoved it into Chuck's stomach and glared at him to 'tell me the damned truth'.

"It's a long story and if you keep your pants on, you'll hear all about it. Jules is good people. She's not involved in the intelligence business at all except that she's Jill's sister."

Just then Jules walked in and sat down heavily and stared down at her coffee cup. "Chuck, you're the last person I ever expected would be a traitor to his country. I should throw your ass out or call the cops. How could you…"

"Jules, it's not that at all. I do some things for the government and Agent Hansen is my handler. She's supposed to keep me out of trouble but…"

"Agent Hansen, you have my sympathies. This asshole is a trouble magnet. I should have married him when I had the chance and saved the government all this trouble." The last sentence was muttered with definite regret.

Carina looked at Chuck and noted a tightening of the eyes as he looked out the window at the stock pen. There were horses there. They were very beautiful and appeared to have had the same bloodline. You could take the girl off the horse ranch but…

"What generation are they, Julia?" He was nodding toward the window and the stock pen beyond.

"Third through fifth. Actually, I…" She turned and looked at him and she was suddenly so sad.

"My God. Those bastards did it, didn't they? What Gen are you?"

"I'm not sure. I didn't even suspect it until I saw those beautiful horses out there. How can you call them 'bastards' when you're doing exactly the same thing?"

"I'm rebuilding species not duplicating…well, I suppose you're here seeking your Prime, right?"

"Rebuilding species? What for? We're all sterile and require your damned vats for offspring. How is that any improvement?"

"Chuck, there's a 30% fertility rate for the mares, higher among the stallions. I've got 4 natural-born colts out to pasture with their mares. I'll take you there later."

"OK. Carina's a Natural. She probably has no idea what we're talking about but I'll fill her in when we get time. She's very special to me. Right now, I need to find Prime, Jules, and rescue him. Chuck Bartowski is a very special man and he's very important to the security of this country. He can do something with his mind that is incredible."

"So why are you here, Chuck? I suppose 'Chuck' isn't your name. How old are you?"

"I think maybe 6 months but that's from 'awareness'. I might be older but I've been conditioned to be Chuck Bartowski. Your sister is my Maker and I think she's tracking me with subdermal sensors. At least that's what Dr. Pesich said."

Carina started to hyperventilate and he immediately crouched down by her side. "Hey, it's all right. I'm as human as you are. Don't panic, Sweetheart. I – I love you just like Prime loves his Sarah. We're supposed to be together now. That's why you're here and the General and Sarah were left behind. Breathe deeply and look into my eyes. You know I'm telling you the truth. You're a Natural, Carina, and you're special."

"Chuck, she doesn't need all that information right now. Take her out to the stock pen and get some air. I'll clean up here and then get the treatment room prepped and we'll x-ray your body and figure out how to extract those damned sensors. Pesich was a butcher and a hack not a geneticist. If she worked on you there will be…"

"Later, Jules. My memories of you were implanted during a final download. I think Jill wanted me to escape and deceive the Agencies that 'Chuck' was recovered but no longer able to perform his special function. Smart but risky. The accelerated growth was risky also. I'm sure there's a price to be paid for it."

* * *

Interstate 10  
65 miles from Marfa

"Sarah, Chuck seems different. I mean, well, he seems slightly 'off' from what I was used to. What's your opinion?"

"After all he's been through, I don't think about the differences, just that he's back where he belongs. I don't care if he can't remember a damned thing from before, we're living from 'now on' and that'll be enough. We both get a fresh start."

* * *

Stock Pens  
Morgan Veterinary Clinic  
Marfa, TX

Chuck rocked Carina against his chest while she sobbed with the revelation that he wasn't a 'natural' human but a clone.

"Carina, I _am_ human. I was just born differently, that's all. You are Carina Hansen and I am Charles Bartowski. I'm a perfect physical match for my Prime but it's in here," he pointed to his heart, "and in here," he kissed her forehead, "that I'm different from Chuck Bartowski."

"And when we find the _real_ Chuck, what happens then? Will they kill you or just lock you up as a curiosity or…my God, they'll experiment on you! I know how the government works. Oh, God, I don't want them cutting you open and studying…We'll run, Chuck. I have contacts down here and we can run…"

"Shhh. When I get my Prime back, we'll disappear. I love you, Carina Hansen. It's not programming, it's choice. You have no obligation to me but I wanted you to know how I feel about you. I won't allow anything to harm you."

"Chuck, what did she mean when she said she should have married you when she had the chance?"

"I don't know. My memories of Prime are all conflicting. I have some that are _his,_ and then I have a shit load of 'Jill's memories'. I can't remember what my sister looks like or anything about my childhood. All I know for sure is that Charles Bartowski is my name. I was supposed to 'love' Jill but then I saw you in Laredo and…and her crap just melted away leaving _me_, Charles3, behind. You took my breath away and even though I was worried about my wife, I still felt like I'd been struck by lightning when I saw you."

"How are we going to find your…er…Prime and then escape, Chuck? I'm so damned scared. I knew it was you in Laredo but it was a different you. Maybe it was the beard, I don't know. What do we do now?"

"First, we get these damned sensors out of me and then we check out Jules's 'vats' and see if they'll meet Jill's needs and be the reason she'll come here to continue her project."

"Chuck…hell, you're Chuck but not Chuck…you're Charlie from now on, OK? My Charlie."

"Fine. Whatever melts your butter. But for right now, we need to get these sensors out of me and then set a trap using them to draw Jill to us."

* * *

20 Miles South of Marfa

"Chuck, I know you're hurting but you have to sit up straight and let me do the talking when we get to Marfa. I'll make contact with the General but first I'm taking you to a safe house and get you hooked up with a decent doctor. Sweetheart, you have to hang on another hour or so. Can you do it for us?"

"Yeah. But it's still bleeding and I'm getting really tired, Jill. And cold. Can you turn on the heater?" He was holding the blood soaked towel against his side.

He'd been shot when they busted out of the labs and ran to the group of buildings a mile or so away from Winter. The aircraft they were supposed to escape in was a smoking hole in the ground near the end of the runway. Jill found an old pickup truck that would start and got them safely away from the Fulcrum hit team that had assaulted the complex. They'd spent the last day or so on the road. He wasn't sure. He slept a lot. And he must have been clonked on the head because he couldn't remember a damned thing before she wakened him and dragged him up onto the surface.

Jill looked over at her 'husband' and grimaced. They needed to get to Marfa and get him stabilized. The whole damned project was in the shitter and she had no idea how many of the clones were discovered. She figured that they'd find the clone she'd prepped to be 'Chuck Bartowski' in the download machine and would be fooled. She would be surprised if he had any mind left at all.

"Just hang on, baby. I'll get you to a doctor just as soon as I can. Once you're back on your feet we'll go someplace and just be together for as long as we can. Chuck, you have to hang on, baby. I need you!"

* * *

Alpine, TX  
40 miles NNE of Marfa

"Sarah, you'd better slow down or we'll be in jail or the morgue instead of helping Chuck." She'd been blowing the doors off anything in her path and it was only a matter of time before some pissed-off highway patrolman took off in pursuit.

"Fine. I'll keep it under 80 but he'd better be there when we get there. Honestly, who the hell goes to Marfa willingly? It's almost…"

"We're looking for a Dr. Morgan. There can't be that many doctors in a county with less than 2,200 people in it. Everyone's got to know good ol' Doc Morgan." He was trying to calm her down, bring humor into the situation like Bartowski would. He could always count on Chuck to bring something funny into the darkest conversations.

"He'd better be competent if he's cutting on my guy, John, or I'll gut him like a fish. I'll leave him out on the desert for the wolves and coyotes to have. I'll…"

"Walker, I get the general idea. You really need to knock off the caffeine and sugar. You're wired tighter than…"

"What if it was Ellie some quack was going to slice and dice, Casey? Would you be so damned calm and 'centered'? NO! You'd be cleaning your damned gun and planning on where to dispose of the body…just like me."

He sighed. She was right. He hated it when she was right.

"You're right, Sarah. I'll help you dispose of the geezer's body if he screws up."

"I figured you would, John. Thanks."

* * *

Morgan Veterinary Clinic  
Marfa, TX

"OK, Chuck…sorry, _Charlie_, hop up on the table and let's get started. The x-ray machine is a little clunky but then I mostly x-ray horses with it. Carina, you might want to get over here behind the shielding unless you and Charlie don't want kids."

Carina turned a deep, dark red and scurried behind the thick barrier. _'Kids? Oh, maybe…yeah, maybe…yeah, kids'._

The films were quickly developed and they saw the three sensors and Jules commented that a local was all that would be needed and it would help if Carina just held his hand.

"He always hated shots and blood tests. Once he…" She stopped and looked so sad and looked to the floor for a few seconds to compose herself. "I guess that wasn't Charlie at all, was it?"

Twenty minutes and 12 stitches later Jules snapped off her latex gloves and admired her handiwork.

"There! All done and I did a great job if I do say so myself. Carina, you'll need to change the dressings daily and use the antiseptic soap and then take out the stitches in a week or so. Charlie, what do you want to do with these?" she indicated the sensors lying in the stainless steel pan.

"I think…" He was interrupted by a truck horn and a woman calling 'Jules, Jules, I need your help!'

Jill ran up to the house door and was pounding on it when Carina, Charlie and Jules ran out to the truck.

"Charlie, it's Chuck and he's hurt!" Carina was stunned into silence when she saw Charlie pick up an unconscious Chuck and run back towards the clinic and the treatment room. She'd never really believed all that cloning nonsense…

Her training kicked in even if her mind was still boggled. Jill Roberts, the person responsible for all the cloning and misery, was running after the trio, yelling something incomprehensible – and she had a gun.

'_She'll mess with Charlie. He said she was his Maker. I'll send the bitch to meet hers!'_

She drew out her pistol and ran toward the clinic.

Charlie gently deposited Chuck on the treatment table that still bore the bloody evidence of the previous procedure. Jules eyes were wide and fixed on the bullet hole just above his hip that oozed blood.

"I've never worked on a person before. And never on a gunshot wound. I don't have the skill…"

"Jules, it's Chuck. You have to stop the bleeding and dig out the bullet. C'mon, you're a vet. People are just…small horses. Do you have the stuff to put him under?" Jill was frantic and would do anything to convince her sister to operate and save him.

"Yeah. I'll rig up a mask and we'll do this old-style. Jill, how long ago was he shot?"

"Two days ago. Fulcrum hit our labs and…"

"Liar!" Carina stood directly behind Jill with her pistol shoved into the small of her back. "Lying bitch! Traitor. Down on your knees and put your hands behind your back…do it!" She pulled the 9mm from Jill's waistband and shoved her down.

She had her handcuffs out and slapped them on her right wrist and then dragged her over to a steel pen and clamped it over a metal rail. She hoped it hurt like Hell. She could see the bloody surgical dressing on her bicep and grinned. She hadn't missed in Laredo.

Jill looked at Charlie and began to talk to him in her singsong litany.

"Chuck, listen to me. Listen to the sound of my voice. Chuck, I love you, baby, listen to the sound of my voice. Execute…" Carina slammed her pistol into her face, effectively stopping the execution commands by knocking the bitch out.

She walked over to Charlie who looked dazed. "Charlie, I love you, Charlie. It's OK. You're Charlie3 and I love you. Just sit down and gather your thoughts, baby. She's not going to invoke any damned conditioning while I'm alive!"

She found some gauze and adhesive tape and gagged Jill and then undid the cuff from the pole, wrapped her arm around it and slapped the cuff on her other wrist. _'Let's see the bitch gnaw through her wrist to escape…That pipe is 3 inches of oil field steel.'_

"Carina, I'm going to need some help here. I need you to listen to his heart and take his blood pressure every 2 or 3 minutes. Here, let me show you how to do the BP…"

* * *

It was ironic. They'd stopped at the first (and only public) phone booth when they reached Marfa and Casey had run out to check the directory but returned empty-handed. It was the same booth that Chuck had stolen the phone book from.

"Shit! Someone stole the damned directory. Head over to that diner and I'll ask for Dr. Morgan."

* * *

A few minutes later Chuck was under and Jules had cleaned the area around the entry wound and was using a long probe to try and locate the bullet. She glanced at the x-ray hanging on the light box and used it as a guide.

'_The last time I had him naked was at Stanford the night before __**SHE **__showed up and Daddy took me 'home'. I should have done what Chuck wanted. We should have eloped and none of this would have happened. I wouldn't be hiding in the ass-end of Texas waiting for them to find me and take me back. I could have made him understand. He loved __**me**__, Jules, not that substitute my Daddy fobbed off on him. So what if she was Prime. I found him first. I loved him first.'_

* * *

Seven Years Earlier  
_Bartowski/Larkin Student Apartment  
__Stanford University_

"_C'mon, Jill, it's not like we haven't touched each other before. Hell, sweetheart, we've made love and we've both done things to each other that are probably illegal even in California…"_

"_Chuck, no! Please, don't force me. I – I – have a nasty scar and I don't want you to see it. Please? Just accept the fact that I'm shy about it. That's why I don't want the lights on. Please?"_

"_Fine. I can understand that, Jill, but I love you, scars or no scars. It's no big deal, really. I'm sorry I pushed you…"_

"_I know. You're always apologizing even when it's not your fault. Look, someday you'll see me in all my glory and then you'll understand. Just – just don't run away from me when you see it, please? Promise me, Chuck!"_

"_OK, OK, I promise but Jill, nothing could make me leave you, honey. Nothing."_

'_Except that my name's not Jill and I'm leaving you soon and __**she'll**__ be here and I'll be…I don't know where I'll be. I don't know __**if**__ I'll be.'_

* * *

Casey ran from the diner back to their car laughing. "Sarah, the Fulcrum 'doc' is a …" He couldn't stop laughing until Sarah popped him in the back of the head with one of _his_ patented 'Bartowski the moron' head slaps.

"Damn it, Casey, there's nothing funny about this…"

"Walker, the Doc's a _vet_! We drove right by her place. C'mon, backtrack. It's only a few miles out of town on the left." He continued snickering despite the glares from Sarah.

She peeled out and was out of town after running one of the two red lights in beautiful downtown Marfa-by-God-Texas.

* * *

Morgan Veterinary Clinic

"Got it! Let me irrigate the wound and pack it and then we're almost done…" She pulled the sheet down lower and placed gauze packing around the wound site and noticed something so strange, terrifying and unexpected…and yet so damned familiar. She saw the same thing, or rather, the absence of the same thing, every time she showered. If she hadn't been so busy trying to close up the wound she'd have laughed herself silly.

"Jules, his BP is dropping and he's cold, Jules, really cold."

"He needs blood. I haven't got a damned thing we can use on a human. I'll…"

"You have me. We're the same blood type, obviously. Use me to save him. He's Prime and he needs to survive. Take as much as you need." Charlie3 was adamant and was already rolling up the sleeve of his shirt.

"Good idea. I have to start thinking. Of course you're the same blood type. But Charlie, he's not…"

"Just do it, Jules. Jesus, he's special. He's Prime. He has to survive!"

"One pint, that's all, OK? And Charlie, he's not…he's not Prime. He's one of us. See?" She pulled the sheet down off his abdomen and pointed.

"Shit shit shit! Carina, wake her up." He pointed to Jill, still unconscious with her hands cuffed around the pole behind her back.

"Find out where Prime is. Jules, start the transfusion. I can't let him die, either. And with two of us…Prime might need 'parts', Jules."

* * *

The two agents pulled into the unpaved gravel lot of the Morgan Veterinary Clinic and both were out of the car, weapons in hand, before the dust even settled. Sarah went to check out the ratty old pickup truck while Casey did the same to their stolen pool car.

"Casey, there's blood all over the passenger seat and there're bloody towels on the floor boards."

Both agents spotted the open door of the treatment building and approached it cautiously. They counted down and then jumped through the door together shouting, "Federal Agents, drop your weapons and get down on the ground!"

They were ignored. It was as if they weren't even there. That tends to piss off Federal Agents.

"I **said** 'drop your weapons and get down on the ground. Are you _**deaf?**_" Walker was not in a mood to be trifled with.

Jules glanced up and nodded and said, "Hello, I'm Dr. Morgan and I'll be right with you. Have patience since I have a patient."

Casey's jaw dropped when he saw Hansen savagely pinching the ear lobe of Jill Roberts and then was rendered speechless when he focused on the vet who was working on Chuck who was getting a transfusion from Chuck who was sitting on a stool looking very pensive.

"Walker, there's _two_ of them! _TWO _Jills and _TWO_ Bartowskis!" He slowly lowered his weapon and waited for someone to start explaining the situation.

Sarah walked over to the 'Chuck' sitting on the stool giving blood to 'Chuck' lying on the treatment table.

"Hello, Agent Walker. I suppose you're pissed off but I had no choice. I didn't know what we were heading into and it was imperative that you and General Casey survive."

"Actually, I'm not mad at you at all, sweetheart. I love you, Chuck. Why is that so hard for you to accept?" She had the beginnings of tears in her eyes but refused to let her emotions slip. Not again. Not until they were safely away someplace together.

"Agent Walker, I'm not _your_ Chuck. I'm _her's," _pointing to Carina who was unsuccessfully trying to bring Jill Roberts around. She turned on her knees and smiled at Walker.

"Hey, Sar', how's it going. I could use some help here bringing the Nazi Bitch around. She has information we need to find Chuck Prime. How's about a little help here?"

"Hansen, Chuck's right there. Look! What the hell game are you playing?" Now she was pissed. And confused. And a little afraid…

"He's _my_ Chuck, Sarah. He's Charlie from now on. We're trying to find _your_ Chuck. We're not sure who the Chuck on the table is. This bitch knows where Chuck Prime's at and I'm going to work on her until either she tells me or she's skinless. Can I borrow one of your knives?"

There were too many 'Chucks' for her to comprehend. She plopped down on her ass and put her head in her hands and fought not to cry. It was all too damned much for her to wrap her head around. She liked black and white. This situation had too much gray.

"Walker, we don't have time for you to melt down now. Pull your head out of your ass and help us here!" Carina had little patience for Walker now, especially when Chuck was still unaccounted for and this Fulcrum bitch might know where _her's_ was.

Jill was moaning and Carina tore off the adhesive tape gag, hoping it really hurt.

"Roberts, I want to know where Chuck Prime is, understand. I'm going to start skinning you in a few seconds unless you tell me exactly where he is, what shape he's in and how to deprogram him – understand?"

Sarah squatted down beside Carina and took out one of her knives and started cutting off Roberts shirt. Her hand shook with the effort to control her emotions. Hansen was right. They didn't have time for anything but finding Chuck.

She leaned over and made eye contact with Jill and cut her bra off. Jill flinched and Sarah smirked. She used her knife blade to move the remnants of her shirt off to the side, baring her breast.

"Skinning takes too long and is really messy. We don't have the time. I'm going to cut off your nipple, Jill, and if you don't tell me where Chuck Bartowski is, I'll hack off your entire boob, got me? No one will ever want you again, assuming you don't die from blood loss. Now, last chance. Where's Chuck Bartowski?"

She jabbed the tip of her index fingernail into the center of her nipple and Jill screamed and started blubbering about labs under the complex and the special cells used for the Primes and the command phrases to purge the Fulcrum download from the cul-de-sac that made programming him possible.

Carina laughed. Sarah hadn't even drawn blood and Roberts had cracked like an egg and told them everything they needed to know. Except for his condition.

"Is Chuck alive, Roberts? He's your ticket to a life underground rather than the needle." Carina was equally as desperate and threatening.

"Alive. Maybe. I don't know. I haven't seen him in a week, maybe 10 days. The clones aren't allowed to ever see the Primes. It upsets their programming. We just harvest from the Primes and when we have enough, we dispose of them."

"How many others are there, Roberts? How many other people have you cloned?" Casey was leaning over the kneeling agents and had his pistol pressed against her forehead.

"Six others. Minor agency department heads. Mostly in HR so we can advance our own people into positions of command and control. We've placed them in almost every intelligence agency in DC. It was easy."

Casey's cell chirped and he answered with a hurried "Not now, General. We have a situation here that…" He listened carefully, nodding his head.

"Yes, there's a road about 3 miles long that fronts the Clinic we're in. It's hard cement and macadam and straight as a board."

"Good. We'll be waiting. I'll text you our GPS coordinates. We have two 'duplicates' here and Roberts is our prisoner."

He listened for a few more minutes then closed off his phone and huffed a breath that sounded like disgust.

"That was Beckman. A C-123 will land here in about an hour and we'll board and go to the Fulcrum complex. The Mexican government is making 'sovereignty' noises and we're supposed to return to FT Hood for 'processing'."

Carina stood and looked at Casey, fearing the worst. "What's going to happen to Charlie and the wounded one, Casey? What did Beckman tell you to do?"

"She told him to 'dispose' of us, Carina. Isn't that right, General Casey? Too many loose ends and too many embarrassing questions to deal with, right? No one will know. We'll just disappear into shallow graves, probably in Mexico." Charlie had unhooked the transfusion and picked up Jill's pistol where it had been forgotten on the floor.

"Casey, is he right? Is that the plan?" Carina was pale and shaking with anger and Jill just laughed at how naive Carina was.

"Of course it's the plan. Fulcrum's no different than they are, Hansen. They're just 'legitimate' whereas we're on the outside, the rebels. They'll kill you too, Hansen. You know too much. Isn't that right, Casey? You'll probably end up 'disposing' of Walker and Bartowski Prime, too, if you even bother to look for the detention cells."

Jules spoke for the first time and her voice was cold and calculating.

"No one is killing anyone. Drop your weapon, Mr. Casey, and put your hands up. Charlie, you and Carina take my truck and the wounded Chuck and run. There's money, basic medical supplies, a pistol and shotgun and directions to a safe place in the toolbox in the truck bed. I'll surrender when their transport lands. Go quickly and don't come back, ever."

Casey turned and put his pistol on safe and thrust it into the waistband of his pants. "You're right, Dr. Morgan. No one is killing anyone. You and Carina take the guys and whatever you need and run to this 'safe place' of yours. Walker and I will clean up here and then fly down to the Fulcrum site and find Chuck and then we'll play it by ear."

"Casey, you told Beckman that you had 'duplicates' and Roberts. How…" Sarah was confused but hopeful. Maybe this whole clusterfuck would have a happy ending after all.

"There's a lime pit behind the barn. When I have to euthanize an animal or a pet I bury them there. The quick lime takes care of the remains. Mr. Casey followed his orders and put the bodies in the pit. Isn't that right, Mr. Casey?"

"Well, considering we're going to be related in a sense, call me John. And yes, that's exactly what happened. Roberts is going to keep her big mouth shut because I'm all that stands between her and the needle. Maybe she'll 'escape' during the confusion. We'll have to see what happens in Mexico."

Carina laughed and hugged John and then grabbed Charlie by the hand and went over to help Jules with the wounded Chuck. "Y'know, Jules, this is going to be confusing as hell keeping track of who's who. Going to be fun though."

Julia ignored the pleas of her 'sister' to help her or at least talk to her and left, never looking back.

Twenty minutes later, Sarah and John stood in the parking lot watching the vet's truck tear down the road, south towards Mexico.

"Think they'll make it, Casey? I hope so."

"Yeah, me too. If anyone can pull this off it's Hansen. She's got contacts and money stashed and I'm sure she has more safe houses and hide sites than anyone suspects. OK, they tried to make a run for it and we followed our orders. A rancher came by with a sick horse and we had to dispose of the bodies and make up some line about Jules leaving on a family emergency and leaving us here to close up the clinic and take care of the stock. OK?"

"Works for me. What about Roberts? She can't be trusted, Casey. She'll sell us out in exchange for her life. Beckman will believe her and we'll be…"

"I guess I forgot to mention that Jill tried to run with them. My bad. I'll take care of it. You stay out here and watch for the transport. She's got nothing to tell us anyhow. We know where Chuck is and this project of hers dies with her. You understand that, don't you? No one can have the knowledge she has. Imagine Beckman with the capability of cloning someone? Monstrous!"

Sarah shuddered and tried not to imagine what Beckman would do. "Casey, did Beckman order you to kill Chuck, too?" She had her pistol pointed in his general direction.

"If he can't flash, yeah, but I can't kill my future brother-in-law and ever look Ellie in the face again. Or you, either. And if I'd 'disposed' of the clones, Chuck would never forgive me. You know how he is about family."

* * *

Fulcrum Research Labs (aka Winter, Nevada)  
Mexico

Sarah leaned against the door jam and wiped the vomit from her mouth with the sleeve of her shirt. Casey had his arm around her and was trying to lead her away from the sight and smell of what they'd found when they opened up the sealed door to the 'special lab' as the sign read.

"We need more light and I don't think we should go in there alone. Go up and get some help. I'll see if I can't find some emergency lighting that wasn't fried by the EMP pulse."

"No. I'm OK now. The smell just knocked me for a loop, that's all. I'm OK. We need to – we need to find his body and confirm it. Ellie will need closure."

She pushed herself off the wall and walked into the lab. Her maglight reflected on the surfaces of the glass tanks where the clones were 'grown'. When the EMP pulse fried the labs, the electricity powering the tanks failed and the clones within them drowned or suffocated in their liquid-filled 'wombs'. There were rows and rows of tanks with dead clones in them. The stench was horrible.

"C'mon, partner. Let's find the detention cells. That's where Roberts told me he was being held. Sarah, _come on!"_ He tugged on her arm and moved her flashlight beam away from the floating corpse that looked exactly like Bartowski. He knew this was killing her soul but she was right. They all needed closure.

He cupped his hands and shouted loudly "Is anyone here? I'm Major Casey with the NSA!"

Sarah started to say something but he motioned her to be silent. He'd heard something – a voice?

He called out again and this time he heard a woman's voice and they ran carefully to the sound of her voice. Casey swept his beam to the right and saw several small cells covered with thick wire fencing.

"Over here, Major." He followed the line of cages, for that's what they really were, until his beam revealed a woman covering her eyes from the bright light.

"General Beckman?" He almost dropped his flash in surprise. If it was Beckman, she'd probably never forgive him for his reaction.

"Sarah, it's the General! Stand clear. I'm going to shoot out the lock and get you out of there!" He stepped back and fired twice and then pulled open the cage door and stepped in. She was wearing filthy hospital scrubs and was squinting in the bright light.

"We've been in total darkness since the commando raid. Please be careful with the light, Major. What's the situation?" She was back in command, even if she was filthy and smelled like an old cesspool.

"Ma'am, you said _we_? Who else is down here?"

"I'll answer all your questions in a minute, Major. Give me your pistol and flashlight, please." Casey complied automatically without thought.

"Now, both of you stand over by the door and pull up your shirts. Do it or I'll kill you both where you stand!"

Sarah looked at Casey and knew he was thinking the same thing. _"The General has lost her mind." _And she had a pistol.

"I won't ask again. Pull up your shirts. I want to see your stomachs."

Both complied and the general sighed and motioned them to her, returning the flashlight and pistol to Casey.

"I had to be sure. I had to be sure you weren't clones. They don't have umbilical scars like humans do, just a knot of scar tissue at the base of their necks. It's how you can tell. Now, Bartowski is somewhere down the line from here. Help me up and let's check on him. He's had a rough time of it. I haven't been able to get a response from him since yesterday – well, for some time."

It was all Sarah could do to hold herself in check as she and Casey helped Beckman over to the other cell.

The object of her frantic search was lying on the bare bunk with his back to the door.

"Chuck, it's Sarah and Casey and General Beckman. We're going to get you out, Chuck. We got Roberts to tell us where you were and we got here just as soon as we could." He wasn't responding.

"We haven't had any food or water since the commando raid and I think he pissed them off earlier because they skipped his 'mealtime' and water and beat him instead. Get him out of there, Major. Sarah, you call and get a medical team down here. There are four more here if they're still alive."

"Ah, General, what about your…replacement? How do you want to handle her?" Casey figured that Beckman, with little to do with her time, had formulated at least one plan to painfully eliminate her substitute.

"I'll handle _her_. When we get the survivors out of this hell hole, Major, blow it up! I want nothing left to allow anyone this technology, understood?" She knew how much Casey loved blowing things up.

"Yes, ma'am!" Casey called the detachment commander and told him to have a demo squad bring down enough explosives to blow this place to hell.

Sarah had run to the cell, shot the lock out of the door and was now sitting with Chuck, holding his head in her lap and giving him small sips from a water bottle she'd brought along in her pack.

"Not too much, Chuck. You can have all you want but not all at once. I don't want you getting sick. I have plans for us, sweetheart. I was so wrong back in Burbank. It took losing you to make me realize how much I loved you and I promise to show you how much every day for the rest of our lives."

"That's a ...nice thought, Sarah." From his patronizing tone, he didn't believe her.

She looked away. She _would_ stay with him. She _would_ keep her promise.

He closed his eyes and she thought he'd passed out or worse. "Chuck! Stay awake. Don't leave me alone. I've been alone too long. Please, stay with me, baby. Help's coming."

His eyes fluttered open and she saw him grimace. "Beckman's probably... got a nice bunker already... picked out and you'll be gone. They know...I'm the intersect."

"Let's get you out of here and someplace safe. Ellie knows you're alive. Casey told her. Chuck, Casey and Ellie are together. She's happy and so is he. He's different now. I'll be with you all the way, Chuck. I won't leave you again. Trust me."

"Sorry, I'm all out." He closed his eyes and sighed. He was so afraid he was going to die alone in the dark and that his clone would cause havoc on his friends.

She felt a surge of anger and quickly tamped it down. He had every right to feel the way he did considering everything that had happened to him in the past months. Every right. She had a long battle ahead of her to win back his trust. She hoped she still had his love.

"Hush. You're safe now. You'll be healthy in no time and we'll go on a vacation – yeah, a vacation. Just the two of us. Chuck? Stay with me, Chuck. Chuck?"

* * *

The surviving hostages were taken by air to an undisclosed location that turned out to be a small hotel on the outskirts of San Antonio. The entire facility was taken over by the NSA and teams of physicians and nurses.

After stabilizing their patients, they started the long process of debriefing.

No one was exempt, not even the General. Her debriefing was conducted by Major Casey and the results were sealed until Beckman assumed her rightful position. Casey was surprised but pleased at how she heaped praise on Bartowski for keeping up the spirits of the hostages even after the lighting failed.

"Major, if you were on a desert island and could only take one kind of sandwich, what would it be? What would be on it?"

"Ma'am? I – I never thought about it."

"Don't. You'll find yourself lost in your own mind and that's exactly how Mr. Bartowski kept our spirits up, making us think about something so ridiculous that we actually spent hours discussing the relative merits of Helman's Mayonnaise versus Miracle Whip!"

"Um, OK."

"I'm not crazy, Major. But I sure am hungry for a roast beef on whole wheat with mayo and lettuce and tomato and a dill pickle."

"Um, I'll – I'll see what I can do about that." Casey excused himself and went in search of someone who could run an errand – to the nearest deli.

Chuck was a mess and was convinced that this was just some double-blind operation to get him to cooperate. He'd made Sarah and anyone else who walked into the room bare their bellies for a 'button check'.

When the doctors briefed the team on his injuries, Sarah swore and left the room and returned to Chuck's side, automatically bearing her stomach when she walked in. She hopped up on the bed and took his hand in hers and starting updating him on the situation.

"Chuck, I'm going to tell you some things you're not going to like but I want you to know the truth so no one can snow you. We 'rescued you' and took you back to Ft. Hood and you insisted on being restrained because of some programming. You were afraid you'd hurt us. I mean, your clone. It wasn't you and I thought it was you and then your clone ran off with Carina and…Chuck, wake up, please? This is hard to tell once. I don't want to have to repeat it over and over."

* * *

APR


End file.
